Stranger
by kingsandthieves
Summary: Wood elves falling from the sky, quests to prove herself, a reunion she wasn't quite ready for, strange daedric dreams that keep getting worse… Not to mention the bees she's convinced have a personal vendetta against her. Why did Kara ever believe returning to Skyrim would make her life easier? Sequel to Rootless.
1. Here's Kara!

**Disclaimer: **Bethesda's game, I'm just messing about with it.

**Rating:** M, for forthcoming adult situations and content, violence, and language.

**Pairing: **F!Dragonborn/Brynjolf, F!Dragonborn/Rune

**Note(s):** Sequel to _Rootless_ that I'm FINALLY posting. So sorry for the wait! Cover picture is art by NuPhoenix Visions (nuphoenix at Tumblrdotcom) Enjoy!

* * *

_Stranger I know so well, you got me tripping over myself_

_Can't trust in you_

_'cause as I reach for your hand, I still sink into quicksand_

_Isn't my good side worth rescuing?_

-Versa

* * *

The problem with gemstones was, when you were rifling around in someone's pocket, they all felt the same.

The Bannered Mare in Whiterun was full that night, people mostly sitting around the firepit, trading half-slurred stories back and forth. A bard was singing a song about Nord aggression, while in the corner, a lively game of dice was happening. Every now and again, a chorus of cheers or groans would rise, depending on how the dice fell. It was warm, almost too much so, a drop of sweat dribbling down the middle of Kara's back. The air smelled of meat roasting on a spit, fat dripping into the fire and hissing; sour wine and honeyed mead pouring into stained oak tankards; sweat and horses and tilled earth nearly overpowering, as the city's workers crowded in for some well-deserved free time before stumbling home to their husbands and wives.

A slight haze of smoke filled the room, stinging Kara's eyes, but she'd live. _Well, depending on whether or not I can find this damn flawless ruby._ She looked down at the jewel clutched in her fingers, nearly groaning. Amethyst, again.

Kara glanced up. She was standing at the bar, facing outward towards the crowd, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, like she might be waiting for someone. From a table nearby, a familiar woman with dark hair glowered over a tankard of mead; Kara resisted the urge to wave at her housecarl, knowing that if she did, Lydia would most likely not hesitate to shoot an arrow straight through her. After all, as she had been told many times in the past few months, her "criminal activities" were "dishonorable" but Kara knew all that meant was that Lydia was embarrassed at having to be the sworn protector of a twenty-year-old thief.

But, as Kara had learned, what doesn't kill you makes you ready for the next thing that comes your way. Usually.

She slyly dipped her hand back into the pocket of the man to her right, the one leaning forward on his barstool, enraptured by the blonde on his other side. She was the perfect distraction; with her in his line of sight, he would never know Kara existed. Kara frowned slightly at that thought. _Even though I could have done this myself._ She might have been a member of Skyrim's Thieves Guild, but that didn't mean they considered her experienced enough to go out on her own, even if she thought she had proved herself enough already.

Vex laughed, the sound high and bubbly, before leaning forward, her hand sliding up the man's knee. She was supposed to stall, but the longer it took Kara, the longer he'd be able to see through it. The job was to get the ruby and get out, but when the mark happened to be the apprentice of the town jewelcrafter, it was not the easy task they'd been promised.

"So, what do you say we get out of here?" the man asked, his words slurring slightly.

Vex was practically purring. "So soon? I'd love to just sit here and _talk_ with you some more…"

Kara fiercely resisted the urge to mimic the sound of someone vomiting, slipping the amethyst back into his pocket. _Divines, give me a ruby. If you love me, you will give me a ruby._ When she retracted her hand, the gem was a deep sparkling blue. She wanted to scream. _So much for being Dragonborn._

"We've talked for hours," the man whined, exaggerating as he reaching for her hand. "I am overcome with my desire for you. We _must_ leave."

"One more drink," Vex commanded, smiling wickedly. "And then we'll go to your place and do anything you like."

He turned to summon the bartender, nearly noticing as Kara stuffed the sapphire back into his pocket. Behind his back, Vex dropped the sultry expression in exchange for one of fury, mouthing_ "What is the problem?"_ Kara shrugged, shaking her head, as the man ordered two more drinks for them. Vex just clenched her teeth and looked away.

Luckily, their mark didn't seem to notice. He handed her a newly refilled chalice of wine, while he guzzled his sixth consecutive tankard of mead. Kara took a deep breath, trying to stay focused, before she decided to try something else. She slid her hand back into his pocket, swift as a snake. He didn't feel it. She closed her fingers around four gems, pulling them out. If she grabbed four at one time, one of them _had _to be the ruby at some point, right?

As she was pulling her hand back, however, her closed fist caught on the man's trousers, yanking at the pocket before she was free. He felt it, looking down, frowning. Immediately, Vex stepped in, sliding off her barstool, standing in between his legs and wrapping her arms around him.

"I want you," she said suddenly. The man forgot all about his pocket and gazed at her in wonder, giving Kara the opportunity to step back.

Kara peered down into her hand, her heart pounding hard. Sitting there, with two amethysts and a sapphire, was the ruby, gleaming up at her as only a flawless jewel could. She quickly snatched it up, securing it in one of the many pockets in her leather armor. The other jewels she began placing back with Vex's hands nearby as a distraction, as the Imperial woman began practically professing her undying love for the mostly drunk Nord between them.

Vex was just starting to describe their upcoming night of thrilling passion when Kara's fingers fumbled as she was putting in the last amethyst. It tumbled away from her. She watched, horrified, as the gem seemed to take eons to fall. It dropped to the floor, bouncing, hitting the floor with a precious _chink, _before it rolled to a stop between Vex and the man's feet. They both looked down, staring, as Kara squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, cursing in her head.

"Is that one of my…" the man began, before Vex suddenly grabbed both sides off his head and kissed him full on the mouth. He seemed to forget what he was saying, wrapping an arm around her waist…for a moment.

Suddenly, he stood up and pushed her away; Vex grabbed the stool behind her to support herself, looking manic in the half-light. "Wait a minute," the man said loudly, turning to glance between both of them. "You…you two were playing me! You're _thieves_!"

A hush fell over the inn, as nearly everyone turned to stare. The bard went silent, gaping at the two of them. Lydia sank down in her seat, only her eyes and the top of her head visible over her tankard.

"We're…we're not thieves," Kara stuttered. "No, we're just…rehearsing a play!"

"There's such a thing as knowing when you've been beaten, kid," Vex mumbled.

Several of the sellswords in the corner stood up, their drink and games forgotten. A Redguard woman tending a spit took one look at them before running for the door.

"And that would be our cue to leave?"

Vex nodded.

They had gone a step when the man grabbed Kara, his fingers tightening around her wrist. "Damn dirty thieves," he hissed, eyes unfocused. "Making off with my property. Why don't I just stick you where it hurts instead?" Too late Kara saw the glint of a dagger in his hand.

She wriggled in his grasp uselessly, but the blade was nearing her, and there wasn't time—

He gasped suddenly, back arching. The dagger dropped from his hand, clattering to the floor. Vex was behind him, baring her teeth, a bloody dagger held high in her fist. Wrenching him away from Kara, she spun around, showing him to the rest of the tavern, her eyes wild. "Stay away from us, peasants. Anyone runs for the guard, and he dies."

Kara stared at her. "Did you kill him?" she asked, her voice high-pitched.

"No, it's just a flesh wound. Come on." Kicking the man away from her, the two of them scampered out the door and into the wintry night.

"What in Oblivion is _wrong_ with you?" Vex shouted, when they were on their horses and away, heading back to Riften through the woods. They had run as fast as they could down to the stables, and had continued the breakneck speed until they were well away from the range of any archers' arrows. "Are you clumsy, or just plain stupid?"

"I'm sorry, okay? Each time I pulled something out, it was the wrong one!"

"Then _why_ did you keep putting them back in?"

Kara's mouth opened, before she shut it again. "I…hadn't thought of that."

"Clearly. You did get the ruby, right? Please tell me you finally grabbed it before nearly ruining this entire thing. The client wanted the flawless ruby, so if you got something else—"

"Of course I got the flawless one! And I notice you're not mentioning _you_ stabbing that guy. If he ends up dying, Mercer is going to be furious."

"Don't you recite the rules at me, _newcomer_," Vex replied scathingly. "If I have to, I'll just blame it on you. With your record of late, it'll be all too easy to believe it. And _you're welcome,_ by the way, for saving your pathetic life. Wait until Mercer hears about this…"

It seemed like Mercer was always hearing about something or other these days – usually with Kara in the middle of it. It wasn't that she wasn't trying, but being a professional thief was so much different than how she had imagined it. For example, the rules. There were so many! She couldn't steal from certain houses, something she'd learned the hard way, after getting a push down a short flight of stairs from Delvin, the creator of a code known as "shadowmarks" – indicators of where to steal, and where not to. It would just figure she would pick the one house that was marked with the one symbol meaning it was protected by the guild. She couldn't steal from certain people (again with the shadowmarks), she couldn't kill anyone, and worse yet, she couldn't even go out on her own yet, forced to lag behind what Vex liked to call "the _real_ thieves", the ones she usually ended up acting as a pack mule for.

That was the _real_ problem. Working with the others was messing with her head. When it had been with Brynjolf, that was fine; he understood her little quirks and unbalances, trusting her to get the job done regardless. Everyone else treated her like the annoying kid sister that followed them around asking stupid questions. There was so much pressure to do right by them that she was constantly weighing her every action, instead of following her instincts.

She had never felt the burden of so many rules when she was running around with her father. Perhaps that was why they'd been caught and sent to prison; maybe then, they could have used more rules, but this… it was becoming too much. Hadn't she proved herself? Not only had she scored the guild a priceless artifact—and from a Daedric _Prince_, no less—but she had assisted in two of the jobs that got them back on the radar and back in business. Even if the artifact _had_ disappeared, the fact that they were getting jobs again had to count for something!

Kara considered asking Brynjolf about it, before she remembered: He was still in Solitude with Cynric, a Breton and former jail-breaker that Kara had bonded with after the two of them had shared a number of gory prison stories that made the other thieves groan. They weren't expected back for a number of days yet, and Brynjolf's absence, like many things, was beginning to wear on her.

He was the first person that Kara had really met in Riften who was a part of the Thieves Guild, after a botched pickpocketing attempt that somehow ended up with him holding _her_ coinpurse. Initially, she had distrusted him, but after a journey across the frosty landscape that culminated in him saving her life several times, she eventually grew to like him—most days. He had been her accomplice, her associate, her occasional mentor, and friend; if it hadn't been for him, she might never have come back to Skyrim. In fact, he might have been the biggest reason she _had_ decided to come back to Skyrim, if she was being totally honest with herself. Of course, those were the times when she frightened herself the most, wishing she could go on lying to herself as easily as she could to other people.

If she was being truly and completely honest, just the thought of the red-headed Nord was enough to make her blush silver in the moonlight. She slid a sidelong glance at Vex, to make sure she hadn't noticed; the Imperial woman was still muttering angrily to herself. That suited Kara just fine, as it gave her time to think over her and Brynjolf's unique "friendship" yet again, as she had for the hundredth time since returning to Skyrim. What had started as an alliance had progressed into easy friendship, but it hadn't quite halted there like it should have. They had kissed once on the infamous Windhelm heist, and she knew she shouldn't think about it, knew she shouldn't care, since he had told her it was just business, but she couldn't stop herself. She _knew_, she had felt it, that he had kissed her back, and there was a moment in there where the city faded to fog in the background, and it stopped being business. But getting that moment back proved impossible, as she seemed like the only one who knew it. She and Brynjolf had talked many times before his voyage, but he was always so busy that there hadn't been time for anything else.

_You need to quit thinking about it._ She had told herself that every day since she'd been gone and every day since she'd returned, but she still couldn't make herself believe it, couldn't make herself do it. It was stupid, and she knew it—after all, she knew little to nothing about him—but he was there in her mind all the same. Sometimes she wished he'd never kissed her, that their friendship had stayed the way it was and she didn't have to worry about whether or not a kiss that she may or may not have wanted would ever come again.

She looked up at the sky, at the constellations glimmering so high above. The moon was a crescent, a sardonic grin looking down on her, as if it had seen her utter disaster of a job tonight. She scowled up at it, and suddenly it was Brynjolf's grin and she wanted to shoot an arrow at it, to break the moon into a thousand starry pieces. She sighed loudly; Vex looked over with a glare. Kara sat up in her saddle, looking as alert as possible, while Vex rolled her eyes.

At least, in the midst of all things, Kara still had Rune.

Once they entered the cool valleys of Rift, the air thick with mist, they left their horses at Snow-Shod Farm, whose owners were friends with the guild, before walking the rest of the way to Riften. Vex didn't say a single word, and Kara knew she was still angry, still planning on running to Mercer like a mouthy child who had a secret. By the time they strode through the south gate, she was too tired and too hungry to even care. _Let Mercer scream at me_, she thought, blearily peering around at the sleeping town. _I've got nothing to lose._

Now that Kara was a fully-fledged member of the Thieves Guild, she had access to the mysterious back room she'd always wondered about, the _real_ seat of operations: the Cistern. There was, of course, the door through the hidden passageway in the Ragged Flagon, the tavern in the sewers, but there was also the entrance in the mausoleum of the Riften cemetery. Vex pushed the button on the sarcophagus with her toe while Kara served as a lookout. The sarcophagus slid open with the sound of grinding stone, and down the stairs they went. Vex pulled the chain to close it, and they descended into the trapdoor.

The Cistern was a large, round room with a high vaulted ceiling. Around the walls of the room were the beds and chests full of belongings, the desks where Mercer crammed all his paperwork, the shelves full of books and dishes, the tables where they ate and talked over each other. In the center of the room, however, was a platform extending up over the water surrounding it like a moat. When they arrived, it was that time between night and morning, when the sun was just starting to rise, the stars just beginning to fade, and the Cistern was a flurry of activity. One thing Kara had learned in her time with the guild was how there was no time for thieving like the present—some thieves went out at night, working the homes of the sleeping folk and the shops with easily picked locks; others went out in the daylight, hands slipping into pockets, knives cutting purse strings, distracting shopkeepers while others fixed the books in back rooms. She had worked nights for the past week, so for her, it was time to sleep; for others like Sapphire, the day was just beginning.

They passed the sharp Nord woman as they stepped out of the alcove housing the ladder. She was pulling on her boots, her eyes the red of the recently wakened, her hair a mess. She smirked at them, looking at Vex.

"How'd it go?"

Vex made a _tch_ sound before stomping off across the little bridge before them that led to the platform in the middle of the room, heading straight for Mercer where he was already dressed and hunched over his desk. Sapphire and Kara watched her go.

"That bad, huh?"

"It wasn't my fault," Kara automatically said.

Sapphire rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I think I've heard that before."

Kara ignored that, stifling a yawn. "You pickpocketing today?"

"As always. I gotta go. You better report in to Mercer before you go to sleep; he's like to be pissed at you anyways, so you don't want to make it worse."

Kara watched her walk away. They hadn't been the best of friends—or at all, really, since Sapphire had once broken Kara's nose—but she had recently started to loosen up around her fellow Nord, and they'd managed to carry on a total of _two_ conversations without snapping at each other. She considered that progress.

Kara was about to head across the platform herself, resigned to her fate, when somebody tapped her on the shoulder.

"Good morning," Rune said amiably, smiling at her. His brown eyes were lively, but his long brown hair was slightly tangled; he must have just gotten up. "How did it go?"

She felt some of the tension ease out of her. In Brynjolf's absence, she had turned to Rune, the easy-going Imperial she'd met while pulling off the Clavicus Vile heist four months before. They'd gotten along well then, and it continued now, which Kara took as a good sign. Most people in and out of the guild found her annoying, exasperating, or both, so it was nice to find someone who actually enjoyed her company.

"Horribly," Kara said miserably, honestly, her shoulders slumping. "I nearly got us both caught and killed. Wait. I _did_ get us caught, and _nearly_ got us killed. Vex had to stab some guy, and it just—it did not go well."

Rune's face crumpled sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Kara. But you know these things happen. Especially when—"

"—you're new. I know." She'd heard it so many times she was starting to be sick of it. Still, she smiled at Rune. "You're up early. I thought you were on nights."

"I was. Delvin wanted me along with him to meet with Maven in case he puts his foot in his mouth and nearly gets castrated again."

Kara grinned at the memory. "Right, good times." She thought about the woman who essentially funded their operation, Maven Black-Briar. She was another one Kara had managed to piss off within her first week in Riften. Since then, she'd made herself scarce when the matriarch of the Black-Briar family came calling. "What does our illustrious patron want?"

Rune shrugged. "She's got some jobs, I suppose. Something about an old contact."

"Oh, well that's good." Kara looked around at the dripping Cistern around them, at the conversations that carried in eerie echoes. "We could use something new around here."

"Yeah, things have been unusually quiet of late. I bet Mercer has something up his sleeve."

Kara barely stifled a groan. "Oh, I hope not. I've had enough of him and his sleeves."

"Just his sleeves?" She nudged Rune, and he laughed. "Oh, come on. You know Mercer has the guild's best interests at heart."

"Yeah, I just wish…" There was a banging sound from above; Kara looked up, frowning. "Did you hear that?"

Rune followed her gaze. "Hear what?"

"I don't know." She stared at the old stone for a moment, before shaking her head. "Must've been nothing."

Rune smiled patiently. "You sound exhausted, Kara. You should get to bed."

"Can't." Kara looked across the chamber, where she could just see their guild master through the faint falling light above the platform.

Rune grimaced. "Right. I should be on my way as well. I'll see you whenever we return. Will you be here?"

"Most likely." She grabbed his arm as he turned to go, stopping him from leaving. "Rune? Thank you."

He flashed her a grin, his dark brown hair falling in his eyes. When he smiled, he seemed younger and so carefree that she couldn't help smiling back. "Of course." He patted her arm once before he was off, joining Sapphire and Vipir the Fleet as they prepared to leave.

Kara watched them go before sighing heavily, dragging herself around the circular stone path. She could have gone straight to Mercer and Vex across the platform, but why hurry to her funeral? If these were her last moments as a living thief, she wanted to enjoy them.

She looked around as the guild began to empty out. Sapphire, Vipir, Delvin, Rune, Brynjolf, and Cynric were all gone. Tonilia, the guild's fence, was in the Ragged Flagon where she always was with the owner, her lover, Vekel. The beds arranged around the room were mostly empty save for three; if she had to guess, she'd say they were occupied by Thrynn and Niruin, all of whom had been working the night before like her and Vex. She wished they were awake so she could stop by and talk, as anything to delay her from seeing their guild master.

It wasn't that she didn't like Mercer. She did, in her own way. It was just that he was so damn _prickly_. He had a stern, pinched face; his eyes beady and red from poring over accounts and letters; his hands always rubbing his temples when he was frustrated. He was sarcastic and mean, constantly annoyed for some reason, and usually yelling at someone. Of late, that someone had been her, for all manner of reasons, mostly involving jobs. Once, though, he'd been on her back about the way she'd bound her hair; he deemed her wild curls too noticeable, too memorable, and had demanded she cut them off. There were a lot of things she was willing to take, like his constant criticism of her techniques and how she simply just wasn't as good as he'd thought she was, but there were some things she wouldn't do for anyone. She refused, he raged, and they'd forgotten about the whole thing a week later. Still, his favorite straw man of late had been her, and she was not looking forward to the diatribe she'd earn this morning.

She knew it was going to be bad when he immediately looked up at her as she approached. Vex was sitting in a chair beside his desk, leaning back on two legs, her feet up on the corner of the desk. Mercer had been reading a letter, and usually when people approached him, he ignored them until he was finished, but this time he looked right up at Kara before shoving the letter aside.

"What happened?" he asked, his teeth clenched.

The default answer sprang into Kara's mind. "It wasn't my fault."

"Explain."

"Okay. The mark you sent us after was the jewelcrafter's apprentice. Which, we should have guessed. I mean, have you seen that woman? She's probably been old since the Second Era; of _course_ she needs an apprentice to take over for her."

Mercer didn't say anything. His face remained fixed in the same expression of impatient annoyance.

"So he had all these gems in his pocket, not just the ruby. And I don't know if you've ever noticed, but all gems feel the same. Even flawless ones."

"No, they don't," Vex piped up. "Some feel differently than others. You're just inexperienced—"

"Oh, bullshit," Kara snapped, making a face. "I bet even if you, glorified infiltrator, stuck your hand in that man's pocket, you wouldn't be able to tell a ruby from a piece of common coal."

Vex sprang up from her seat, jabbing her finger in Kara's direction. "Now you listen to me—"

"_Enough_," Mercer said loudly, rubbing at one of his temples. "It's too early for this kind of shit. It's enough that Kara is an idiot; I don't need to have her blood cleaned up off the floor, too. But you," he barked, looking to Kara with a severe glare. "You are stupid. You nearly botched the entire job and forced Vex's hand!"

"I know—"

"Do you? Because this is the third time I've had to talk to you in the last three weeks. Why did we even accept you?" Mercer raised his eyes to the ceiling, shaking his head. "I _told_ Brynjolf it was a stupid idea, that we should take you on as a pledge before initiating you so you could get some more experience, but _no_—"

Kara's mind drifted, going fuzzy; she swayed on her feet. There were only so many _no_'s that her body could take before it shut down of its own accord.

A hand waved in front of her face. "Are you even _listening _to me?"

"Yes!" Kara said immediately, nodding and standing up straight. "Yes, Brynjolf was stupid, yeah."

Mercer raised his eyebrows. "Are you criticizing my second-in-command, now?"

"Yeah, I think—wait, what?" She shook her head, frowning. "You said…"

"Be quiet! Anyway, as I was saying, Brynjolf put too much faith in you, thinking you were capable, and I have no idea why. Frankly, I think something happened when the two of you went to Winterhold—there's even a bet going on—and I don't care if it's true or not, but if it is, it would explain his grave misjudge of…"

She scowled indignantly, about to ask about the so-called bet, when there was a shout from behind them. They all turned to look. It was Rune; he looked as though he had been running. "Mercer," he said, breathing labored. "Maven's requesting your presence."

If anything, he looked more annoyed that someone had interrupted his tirade. "_Now_?"

Rune nodded. "Apparently she doesn't trust Delvin. Something about incidents in the past..."

"Yes, she _would_ bring that up, wouldn't she?" Mercer sighed, throwing down his quill. "Fine. Vex, Kara, get some sleep. I'll be back later, and we'll deal with you when you wake up. Understand?"

Kara nodded wearily. She could barely think, much less fight back anymore. Waving goodbye to Rune, who merely winked in response, she turned to follow them towards the ladder out. She didn't get far before Vex stopped her, grabbing her by the arm.

Kara wanted to sigh so badly that her body created the action, shoulders slumping as she turned to face Vex. "Yes?"

"Look, you got off pretty easy right now; Mercer tends to rant when left to his own devices. But the fact of the matter is that you screwed up, and when you screw up, it makes _me_ and everyone else in the guild look bad. I don't know what you think you know about us, but if there's one thing we hate, it's when we look bad." Vex cocked an eyebrow. "You get what I'm saying?"

Kara nodded.

"I know you think we're pretty hard on you – and let's face it, we are – but that's because Brynjolf made us believe you were going to be some sort of game-changer, that you were going to be the one to turn things around for us." Vex looked around, lowering her voice slightly. "Besides, with your, ah, _condition_... Well, let's just say we had high expectations."

Kara looked away, swallowing hard. So far, they'd managed to keep it under wraps from the rest of the guild that she was Dragonborn – or as some people believed, _the_ Dragonborn – and while she knew that she couldn't hide it forever, she was content to let it remain a secret from everyone else. It was bad enough that the senior members of the guild treated her differently, doing exactly as Vex said and heightening their expectations, but she also wanted to stay anonymous just a little bit longer. Without the title hanging over her head, she was just Kara Quick-Draw, that girl who'd joined the guild thinking to make a fortune, if only she could get her head on right. She wanted them to know her like that, instead of the way she had been chosen, the way she had been born, if that was even the case.

"Yeah, well..." Kara ran a hand through her wild curls, making them fall even more wildly than they had before. "Brynjolf likes to talk. A lot. And he says a lot of things."

Vex nodded. "True. But often he says the right things."

"Sometimes he doesn't?"

"Sometimes he doesn't," Vex agreed. "I personally don't care either way what happens to you, but you might want to think about proving him right, before Mercer—and everyone else—starts thinking he's wrong."

Kara frowned. She wasn't entirely sure, but she felt like there was a compliment hidden in there somewhere. "Uh. Thanks, I guess."

"Whatever. Go to sleep, before you fall into the cistern and drown. Not that I care, mind you. I just don't want to have to explain that to Mercer."

"Yeah, yeah." Shaking her head to clear it somewhat, Kara headed for the trapdoor. When she emerged from the mausoleum, the sun was brightly shining, surprising her so much that she stood there for a moment, blinking up at the sky in confusion. Sometimes, being down in the Ratway, she forgot that there _was_ another sky, one where the sun might be wide awake and burning vividly.

It was the near the end of Morning Star, and still as fiercely cold as it had been the day she'd come back to Skyrim. Kara pulled the travel cloak Brynjolf had once stolen for her more tightly around her, shivering beneath it even as she did so. Her father might have given her his Nordic blood, but it did nothing to make her heartier against the chill. Frost glittered on the stones of the marketplace, and when Kara breathed, she could see it in the little white clouds spinning away from her. Skyrim's weather did nothing to deter its inhabitants, and the Riften marketplace was already drawing a crowd. Kara recognized some familiar faces heckling and offering goods as she passed, hurrying towards the Bee and Barb to the sounds of Balimund's forge blazing and the chattering of the early shoppers.

Keerava, the Argonian proprietor of the inn, was too busy serving breakfast to guests to say hello to Kara, so she just trudged up the stairs to the second floor, mouth stretched wide in a yawn that made her jaw ache. Unlocking her room with the key she kept tied on a throng around her neck, she immediately yanked her cloak off and shut the door behind her. To her joy, there was already a fire going in her room. To keep her position in the guild a secret, Kara had told Keerava that she liked to explore caves at night, something the woman had found strange, but considering Kara's reputation, believable. Since then, she had accepted Kara's inverted schedule and made sure to keep a fire going in Kara's room at dawn, to keep her warm while she slept.

Throwing the cloak on the chair in the corner, Kara began shucking her armor, leaving it strewn across the floor. Before she climbed into bed, she went to the wardrobe that stood tall against the opposite wall. She threw the doors open, before shoving aside the clothes hanging inside, reaching for the trigger in the top corner. The false back popped, the panel sliding open to reveal what she had been keeping hidden from almost everyone in the guild: a map of Skyrim hung up on the back wall, and below it, her notes.

One of the reasons she had come back to the Thieves Guild—besides the thrill, the idea of wealth, and Brynjolf—was their font of knowledge. They were well-connected, especially through Maven Black-Briar, whose contacts seemed limitless; it was these contacts that Kara was interested in to help her with what she needed to do.

For three months, she had trained with the Greybeards. She had slept on a hard pallet, worn their ridiculous threadbare robes, and eaten their bland food. She had gotten up when they told her, did chores, helped cook, and went to bed when the candles burned low. Most importantly of all, she had learned the way of the Voice, how to change and control her breath, how to give shape to the knowledge she absorbed from dragons. It had been difficult, learning to bridle something that Arngeir, one of the Greybeards, told her was wild and powerful, but she had managed. The Greybeards had given her several trials to complete towards the end of her training, the last of which she was in the middle of now.

"_Return to us the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller,"_ Arngeir had said. "_Then your training shall be complete."_

"_Where can I find it?"_

"_This is your last trial, Dragonborn, and as such, it is the penultimate test of your worth. We shall be offering you no assistance this time."_

She remembered the way she had raged in her quarters at the monastery when she'd heard that, so angry she could have Shouted them all right off their stupid mountain. Or, she would have tried anyway; no doubt they could kill her with just a whisper. Still, it had been a nice mental image for her as she began to face the magnitude of what they were asking her. Eventually, she had adjusted to the idea of finding it alone, even taking it as a challenge – and that was definitely what it was turning out to be. Every book and resource she'd found so far was either vague or differing in accounts of what precisely happened to Jurgen Windcaller and his horn. She had pinpointed a few locations, but none of them seemed promising. She had hoped the Thieves Guild might be able to change that for her.

Finished examining the map, reminding herself of her task, she closed and secured her wardrobe before crawling beneath the blankets and furs of her bed, burying her head beneath her pillow and closing her eyes.

Yes, life in Skyrim was not everything she thought it would be when she decided to return. She'd messed up more times than she cared to count, and that was barely in the last month alone. But what was important was that she had a purpose, she had a _job_, and in the life of a thief, that was what mattered more than anything.

If she looked at life as a legendary dragonslayer, she was almost sure she wouldn't be able to hack it. But if she approached the situation as a thief, Kara thought she just might be able to save the world.


	2. Go Ahead, Make My Day

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* * *

When Kara woke, it was late afternoon. The light falling into her room through the cracks in the shutters was a rich amber, and the air in her room was much warmer than it had been that morning, though the fire had burned out. She rolled over, reaching for the nearest article of clothing that still smelled fresh enough to wear out and about.

After she had dressed, washed her face and cleaned her teeth, she headed downstairs. It wasn't quite time for the dinner rush yet, but there were still plenty of people there, including Maven Black-Briar. She eyed Kara coldly as she walked past, nodding at her when their eyes met.

"Oh, Kara, glad to see you're finally awake," Keerava said, handing a bottle of mead to someone sitting at the bar. "A courier came by earlier with something for you."

Kara took a seat, reaching for a sweetroll and flipping some septims onto the bar. "Oh?" She bit into the pastry with relish.

Keerava nodded. She stooped, disappearing from view, before she popped back up holding a parcel wrapped in brown paper, tied neatly with a string. She handed it over to Kara, who frowned, swallowing her mouthful of food before shaking her head. "I have absolutely no idea who would send me anything."

"He said it was from Cyrodiil."

The man seated beside her – a Nord – slid a sideways glance at her, the air around him reeking of suspicion. She looked over at him, scowling. "Mind your own business, old man."

He looked at her, shocked, before anger flashed across his face. He slid off his barstool, slapping down a septim. As he was leaving, she heard him mutter something that sounded a lot like "damned Imperial sympathizers." She sighed. There was no point explaining about her heritage, not to idiots like him, anyway.

She fiddled with the package, trying desperately to untie the string before Keerava finally handed over a knife she'd been using to cut a loaf of bread. "It's getting pathetic now," was all she would say. Rolling her eyes, Kara took it, slicing through the string and the wrappings too, pulling it all apart to find a small bound book, a letter, and a little velvet pouch. She reached for the letter first, even more curious when she saw her name scrawled on it. She tore it open, recognizing the neat, curling handwriting almost immediately.

_Kara,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. It has been a while since we've heard from you, and I wanted to make sure you were all right. With you up there fighting dragons and Talos knows what else, it's all we can do to keep from worrying. Anyway, I bet you're wondering what this box is all about, then? Well, surprise: It's a very late gift for you. Happy Birthday! I'm so sorry it's taken so long to tell you so, but I wanted to make sure the gifts were absolutely perfect._

_Now, about the gifts. The first is a journal, as you may yet be able to see. I thought since you're having all these adventures, and you're having them without me, perhaps you could write down everything that happens to you, and when I see you again, we'll read them together and it will be like I am a part of them too. Alternatively, if this idea doesn't appeal to you, I'm sure you could rip out the pages to keep the fires of the Flagon burning. I'm sure Mercer wouldn't begrudge you easing some of his coal costs. _

_The second gift is the reason it took me so long to send this to you. Inside that little pouch is a ring, one that my friend Aridan and I painstakingly constructed. It is a ring of teleportation, one that will take you wherever you wish to go. It took us __months__ but we finally managed to get the magick right. To use it, you must keep a clear image in your mind of where you want to go and then press the jewel in the setting. However, there are several things you must remember, and please do pay attention, Kara. First, it will only work if you use it. I added a bit of your blood to the spell (don't be mad) and as such, it will only respond to you. This does not mean, however, that you can't take people with you; simply hold hands with whomever you wish to take with the hand that is wearing the ring. Second, like any enchanted item, it will lose charge over time. This __can__ be dangerous, so when it starts to feel weak to you, immediately charge it with a soul gem. If you take too long in charging, it can lose power entirely, leaving you stranded someplace in Skyrim, or worse, in the Void._

_Anyway, I hope these gifts will be quite useful to you in your travels. Mother wants me to ask you to write more often, but I know you're busy. Write us when you can, try not to get into trouble, and for the love of the Divines, please don't die. I'd hate to lose you a second time when I've only just gotten you back. Send my hellos to the guild, will you?_

_Lots of love, dear cousin,_

_Eiri_

Kara smiled, gently refolding the letter and tucking it into her shirt. She reached for the journal first, running her hands over the smooth leather, opening it to flip through the pages of finely cut vellum. _Trust Eiri to get me something sensible._ Still, Kara had to admit she liked the idea of writing down her so-called adventures in the book. When she returned to Bruma, she could read them to Eiri, just like she used to when they were children.

She reached for the pouch next. Untying it, she upended it into her palm. The ring fell out, heavy in her hand. She turned it over, examining it in the light.

"So what is all this?" Keerava asked, leaning over to look as well.

"Gifts from my darling cousin." Kara turned the ring in the light, watching it glimmer. It was silver and plain, the jewel in the center quite small. It was a round orb, transparent as glass, but once Kara touched it, it began to fill with a dark green smoke that swirled around the orb in elegant whorls, turning to a purple sheen where the light hit it. She watched it for a time, before sliding it on the index finger of her left hand. It felt right there.

"How nice of her," Keerava said with a smile. "That's a lovely ring. For a moment, I thought you had a suitor!"

"Me?" Kara burst out laughing, almost dropping the journal. "That's ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? How so?" Keerava set down the rag she'd been holding, looking at Kara curiously. "You're a very lovely girl, Kara. Why shouldn't you have a man or two wanting to snatch you up?"

"Because I—well, I don't care about that sort of thing." She began gathering up the remains of the parcel, feeling a heat rising to her cheeks. This was precisely the sort of thing she didn't care to talk about.

"You're telling me you don't have someone waiting for you back home?"

Kara looked up, smiling as hard as she could to retain what was left of her dignity. "'Course I do."

"Well, who?"

"My family. They're all I need." Crushing all of her things to her chest, she slid off her barstool and excused herself, heading for the stairs.

* * *

When she got to the Cistern, it was again at that time of change between day and night, when everyone was there to eat dinner—or breakfast, depending—before going to work or going to bed. Kara hung back in the alcove that housed the trapdoor, watching her guild mates as they crowded around the tables, reaching over each other for food. Someone laughed loudly, others joining in. She could hear Mercer talking from his usual post behind his desk, and dread immediately coiled in the pit of her stomach. She knew she would have to face him at some point, but for now, she wanted to delay it as long as possible. She was about to try and sneak around, when someone suddenly grabbed her shoulder.

She spun around, making a face when she saw who it was. She hit him in the arm, scowling at his laughing face. "Why are you always doing that?"

"Well, I have to get your attention _somehow_, don't I?" Rune leaned against the wall. He seemed about to say something, before he stopped, reaching for her right hand. He frowned. "What's this?" He held up her hand to the light, examining the ring. His eyes flicked to her. "A suitor you've been hiding from the guild?"

"Why does everyone keep asking that?" Kara wrinkled her nose. "Suitors are for ladies."

Rune raised his eyebrows. "You're not a lady?"

"Not in the noble sense, no. Now, if you _must_ know, it's a gift from my cousin. It's a teleportation ring."

"Oh, like what she did on the Windhelm heist?"

"Something like that, yes." An idea suddenly struck her. She slid a look towards the guild, towards where Mercer was no doubt wondering where she was. "Rune, have you eaten?"

"Some. Why?"

"Would you be interested in trying this out with me?"

"Trying what out?" When she shook her hand in front of his face, he looked shocked. "You mean the ring?"

"Well, what else would I be talking about?"

"I don't know. And I don't know about that ring, either. Will it have the same effects as the magick did?"

"We won't know until we test it."

"And you realize we could die?"

"That's what makes it so fun!"

Rune eyed her apprehensively for a moment, before his face split in a wide grin. "All right, why not?"

"Really?"

"Sure! Come on." Rune grabbed Kara's hand, pulling her backwards, nudging her up the ladder. They both crowded into the secret passageway leading up, Rune shutting the trapdoor behind them. When he stood, the two of them were nearly chest to chest, only inches separating them.

She leaned into him for just a moment, his eyes widening in surprise. She reached up, her fingers just barely brushing his hair, grabbing the chain behind him beside his head. The sarcophagus above them slid open in a noisy grind of stone. Checking that the coast was clear, the two of them climbed out, Rune pushing the button to shut it once more. There was no sign of any guards, so the two of them edged out into the dusk light, frozen leaves crunching beneath their boots.

"So, how does it work?"

"Something like this." Grabbing Rune, she held his hand tightly. "I think."

"You think?"

"Like I said, we'll find out. It should be pretty safe."

"I'm not feeling very reassured here, Kara."

She shushed him. "I need to concentrate." Thinking of Windhelm, just like the job they'd done together, she focused on it as hard as she could, remembering the snow and the wind and the chill in her bones. With her left hand, she reached over and pressed the jewel of the ring. It was hot against her finger before there was a flash of light, and Riften vanished before their eyes.

Where they landed, however, was _not _Windhelm.

There was snow and there was wind and there was a fierce chill in her bones, but there were no rising structures around them, no cobbled streets beneath their feet. Kara felt the bile rise in her stomach, as it often did when she teleported, but for once, it stayed down. Already the ring was an improvement. The setting, however, was ranking quite low in her opinion. _Whose fault was that, though?_

She looked up and around, confused. There was just a world of white, the wind whistling past them, and the feeling that they were up somewhere very, very high. Kara let go of Rune's hand, edging forward. In just three steps, she reached the edge the snowy ground they were standing on, looking over the precipice of a peak into the void below.

"Where exactly were you trying to send us?" Rune shouted, pulling her back by the elbow.

"Not here!"

"Well, take us back!"

"I'm trying! C'mere—" Kara reached for his hand, but suddenly there was a roar from behind them. She turned in time to see something enormous and white rushing at them, shuffling across the snowy ground. Through the wind, Kara could see a number of eyes staring at her from its squashed face, its mouth open wide, showing a full-set of sharp teeth.

She screamed and dodged out of the way, just as its arm came down to swipe at them. Rune threw himself the other way, diving into the snow. She could hear him shout from across the distance. "Frost troll!"

Kara spit out a mouthful of snow. "Yeah, I noticed!"

Rolling over, Kara scrambled back to her feet, maneuvering the bow off her back, reaching for an arrow with shaking hands. Her hood had fallen back, snow flurrying into her eyes, making her squint against the cold as she nocked the arrow as carefully as she could with her shaking hands. She aimed for the troll, but with the wind, her arrow went skittering away, nearly hitting Rune as he lunged forward with his sword, slicing at the troll's legs.

She made to nock another arrow, but suddenly lowered her bow, shaking her head. For some reason, that seemed wrong to her. There was something nudging at her on the edge of her mind, something she knew but couldn't remember. _Frost trolls, frost trolls..._ _What was it about frost trolls?_ Her father used to tell her the rhyme when she was a child, and she couldn't remember the words, but she knew it was something, something relevant, something that she _needed_ to know—

Rune yelped. She looked over in time to see him roll away, clutching his sword arm. "Shit," she muttered, stamping her foot in the snow. "Shit, shit, shit. What is it?" She and Eiri once sang it to each other, clapping their hands together, laughing hysterically in the chill afternoons of Bruma. "Something about forest trolls burn up in the sun, and frost trolls..."

"Kara..." Rune was swinging wildly with the sword as best as he could, but the frost troll was advancing.

"One minute!" Kara held up her hands, miming the game they'd played. She went through it, recalling the words as she did the motions, clapping her hands against an invisible playmate's. "Ice wolf, giant's tooth, mammoth tusk, run. Forest trolls burn up in the sun."

"Kara!"

"Just a minute! Mountain snow, winds low, cold—" She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to remember. "Cold nose, dire. Frost trolls will..." She scowled. "Will what? Will burn..." Suddenly, she clapped her hands together. "Will burn up in fire. Yes, that's it!" Slinging her bow over her shoulder, she ran.

She arrived just in time. Rune was backed up against a cluster of snow-covered rocks, his right arm clearly bleeding through his armor. His expression was pained as he tried to hold the troll off with the sword held in his left hand, his grip shaky. Yanking one glove off with her teeth, she held up her right hand. The scar on her palm was still a pearly pink, but when she called forth her magick, her hand prickling slightly, the scar—in the shape of the Daedric symbol for _oblivion—_glowed a vibrant orange. Flames immediately burst into her cupped hand, and she flung out her arm, firing them at the troll's back.

The sound it made was a cross between a roar and a scream. It immediately spun around, abandoning its pursuit of Rune to discover what was hurting it. She kept up the steady stream of flames. To her great surprise, her arm didn't hurt as she had thought it might. Normally, anything magickal pained her if kept up for too long, the arcane arts not in her usual range of everyday skills. This time, however, her arm felt fine, unlike the usual feeling of knives stabbing into her from prolonged magick use. The fire kept pouring out in a gush of heat, scorching the thin white fur of the frost troll, turning its skin black.

It charged at Kara once it saw her, but she was prepared for it. Skating out of the way, she hurriedly pulled her bow back around, lighting an arrow before nocking it, the fire extinguishing from her palm easily. She shot the frost troll as it tried to regain its bearing. It shrieked. It stumbled around, its three eyes blinking in confusion and pain. The first thing it saw was Rune; it lumbered towards him. Kara let loose another arrow that sank deep into its leg. It growled, but kept going.

"Rune..."

"Shoot it!"

Kara reached into her quiver, grabbing out three arrows, lighting them all simultaneously with flames. Extinguishing the magick pulsing in her palm, she raised her bow, nocking all three arrows, holding them steadily as she took a deep breath, calculating the wind and the distance. She took a quick breath, letting it out. She released, her bow string humming as the three arrows flew straight into the frost troll. It screeched once before its feet slowed, its body wavering. It fell face-forward onto the snowy ground at Rune's feet.

After a moment, he stood up uncertainly. His eyes were wide, still locked on the frost troll, as the wind blew his hair around his shoulder. Kara walked over to him, putting her bow away and collecting what arrows she could. As carefully as he could, he clambered down off the rocks, reaching for Kara when she held out an arm to help him. He was still holding his right arm at the elbow, his sword tip dragging on the ground. It was an ebony blade, the metal a shining onyx. Kara stared at it for a second, about to ask him about it, when she saw the blood dripping from the end of it. For a moment, she thought it was the troll's blood, but she followed the trail up his arm, where it disappeared into his sleeve.

"So, about that—" Rune began.

"No, don't. There's no time. You're hurt."

"Am I?" Rune looked down at his arm, as if he hadn't even realized it was there. "Oh, yeah, that. I guess I am."

"Here, hold my hand." She grabbed his left hand with her right, reaching over for the jewel in the ring. She thought of the Flagon, as warm as it could be in the dead of winter, reeking of rancid water, mead, and sweat, all the scents of home, home, _home—_

The ground solidified beneath their feet, and their knees buckled simultaneously. Kara immediately reached to hold up Rune, as his sword clattered to the stone floor. Every patron in the Flagon was up on their feet at the same time, rushing over towards the two of them. Delvin and Vekel took Rune off her hands, while Vex went running for Mercer. Kara reached for the Imperial woman to try and stop her, but she was already gone, blonde hair whipping around the corridor to the secret hallway.

"Damn it," Kara muttered, turning her attentions back to Rune. They'd settled him in a chair and were in the process of removing his leather chest piece, tossing it onto the table, knocking aside tankards and plates of food. He wasn't wearing a shirt beneath his armor, and Kara was startled to see the number of scars covering his tanned skin. She couldn't help staring for a moment, before Tonilia nudged her out of the way, bringing bandages and some salves that they'd stockpiled in case something like this ever happened. With them walking on paths outside the law, they never knew what to expect.

The cut Rune had earned himself wasn't life-threatening, but it was deep. Within a few minutes, however, Tonilia had bandaged it up and Delvin had given him a bottle of mead to take away any lasting pain. When the rest of them cleared off for a moment to clean up, Kara sat on the edge of the table in front of him, biting her lip.

"Sorry," she muttered, avoiding his gaze. There was a burning in her gut that she identified as guilt; she felt sick, thinking of all the other ways that Rune could have been hurt, or worse. Why was it that she couldn't stop screwing up and endangering her friends' lives? _We were just supposed to go to Windhelm and come back. Why is everything always so complicated?_

He grabbed her knee, shaking it slightly. "Hey. This isn't my first dance on the wild side, all right? No harm done." He looked down at his arm, before smiling. "Well, _some_ harm done. But I'm not the type to hold a grudge. It was an adventure, like everything is with you. Please don't worry about it."

"I just... You could have been seriously hurt."

"And I wasn't. So quit worrying, before I make you."

Kara looked at him now, grinning. "Oh, yeah? And how exactly are you going to do that?"

"With my wit and charm, obviously."

"Right, of course." Kara laughed, glad that he was going to be fine, and even gladder that he wasn't mad about what had happened. Still, it was like he said—everything always turned out to be an adventure, especially with a clueless Dragonborn hanging around.

Kara had almost entirely forgotten that Vex had gone running for Mercer until she heard the door to the Cistern bang open, and her stomach plunged uncomfortably. He strode into the Flagon, the anger rolling off of him in waves, Vex and Sapphire trailing behind him, both of them talking at once. Kara flinched instinctively when his sharp gray eyes landed on her, but the first person he went to was Rune.

"You all right?"

Rune nodded. "Can't swing a sword, but I wager I can still be of use to you."

"Good. As for you—" He turned to Kara, narrowing his eyes. Sapphire and Vex fell silent, waiting to hear the verdict that awaited their fellow thief.

To her surprise, Rune immediately stood unsteadily, shaking his head. "It wasn't her fault, Mercer, it was mine."

Kara frowned. "While I appreciate the thought, it _was_ my fault. I just wanted to try something out, and I...I messed up. I take full responsibility."

Sapphire scoffed, shaking her head. "Trust Kara to screw it all up," she mumbled, as if Kara wouldn't hear her.

Kara turned towards Sapphire slowly. Since the moment she had arrived in Riften, the two had not gotten along. They hadn't _hated_ each other, but they certainly didn't like each other, either. Whatever had happened that morning was a mere comet falling through the sky, there and gone again so quickly it was like Kara hadn't even seen it, Sapphire's momentary kindness fizzing out in the dark.

Rune cleared his throat. "Kara?"

She waved a hand at him, keeping her eyes trained on Sapphire. "Like you have any room to talk."

Sapphire raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I'm sorry, was that someone else who's been ruining things for the guild lately? Because I'm quite sure it's _you_."

"Kara."

"Not now, Rune." Kara narrowed her eyes. "You think I don't know that? You think I _like_ messing things up?"

"Well, you seem to, since you do it so often!"

Kara rounded the table, getting right up in Sapphire's face. "So is that your excuse?"

"What?"

"Your excuse. You must like being a heartless bitch, since you act like it so often."

Sapphire lunged, going for Kara's throat.

"ENOUGH!" Mercer exploded, stepping between them and shoving them apart. "If I hear one more word out of either of you, I will kill you myself, right now!"

They parted, glaring at each other. Sapphire folded her arms and looked away first, tossing her dark hair over one shoulder, while Kara just shook her head. Mercer closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and muttering to himself, all while massaging his temples.

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked up, over at Kara. His voice sounded calmer, at least for the moment. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Uh—"

"Shut up, that was rhetorical! It's early for more than one of us down here, and I was up all night and day _working_, something you might not be accustomed to, because someone has to keep this guild, and I use the term loosely, in check. I am tired and not in the mood for anymore of this!" Taking another deep breath, he leaned in close, mere inches away from Kara's face. She shrank back instinctively. "Now, I know you helped us in a tight spot a couple of times, and for that, we are grateful. But if you don't start to pull your weight and _shape up_, you will be out of this guild faster than you can say 'septims' and not even Brynjolf will be able to resurrect your reputation! Have I made myself clear?"

Kara was about to nod, about to tell him she would get her shit together, all while sending Sapphire a nasty look, when Rune suddenly lurched forward, grabbing her arm and squeezing. She flinched, turning to look at him. "What?"

He pointed out across the Flagon, to the round pool of water that made up the center of the room, much like the one in the Cistern. There was no path leading to the center of it, but instead a small dock that they had constructed that jutted out just short of the middle of the water. Tonilia often sat there on a pile of her supplies, cleaning beneath her nails with a dagger. She was sitting there again now, though alert and looking over her shoulder into the water.

"What's going on?" Mercer called out to her, his voice echoing.

"Something topside, boss," she replied, not turning to look at him.

Kara frowned. Up above them was the Riften marketplace, their base of operations in the well, the one she had accidentally blown up whilst fighting a dragon four months prior. Every now and again, coins would fall down, plopping into the dark water below. Rune had mentioned a lottery that happened every few months to see who would go down there and fetch all those septims, but so far, she hadn't seen it happen. She thought that maybe that was what was happening, but then she remembered, the well had been boarded up.

_Hadn't it?_

Kara was about to ask, but before she could, there was a loud wrenching sound, followed by the thudding of wood on stone. Everyone, including Rune, rushed to the dock where Tonilia sat, leaning over the wooden railing to look up at the hole in the stone ceiling where the well was, Kara's humiliation forgotten. Weak grey light was pouring in from the opening; the sun must have gone down.

Vex looked at Mercer. "Was there supposed to be construction today that we weren't informed about?"

Mercer shook his head mutely, as the last board keeping the well shut was torn away, spilling dust and splinters down. Kara flinched reactively.

"What the…" Mercer began, the sentence snatched from his mouth as something filled the entrance, blocking the light for half of a second, before falling through the air.

Kara gasped. "Is that a—?"

"Yeah," Vex said, her voice hushed. "A body."

The limp form hurtled down and crashed into the murky green waters of the Flagon, sinking to the bottom.


	3. Say Hello to My Little Friend

**Thanks for the reviews and follows/favorites :) **

* * *

Kara glanced between Mercer and Vex quickly, her head snapping back and forth. Neither of them seemed keen on moving, Vex staring at the water in surprise, and Mercer looking up at the well, talking to himself. Everyone else was just as shocked, mouths hanging open in surprise.

Kara reached for her leather vest, the one covered in buckles and pockets, the one she had been given as a member of the guild. With shaking fingers, she wrenched off the buckles at her chest holding the spaulders in place, following up with the bracers and the belt.

"Well, don't everyone rush in at once," she said through clenched teeth, shucking her chest piece until she was just standing there in her dark leather pants and the thin cloth shirt she wore beneath it all.

"Kara, don't—" Rune began, but she was already climbing over the railing and jumping into the water. It broke over her legs in a swell of icy cold, lapping all the way up to her midsection. She sucked in a breath, wincing at the feeling of the water stabbing into her skin like a thousand needles. Her teeth chattered against her will. Mercer was staring at her, face reddening, his mouth moving, but she couldn't hear him over the rushing in her ears and the feel of her heartbeat right under her skin. Rather than waiting to hear what he was saying, she strode forward, ducking down even lower, the water up to breasts, to reach for the body.

Algae clung to the stone walls and there were other things floating next to her, around her, that she didn't even want to think about. She slipped, the water lapping at her neck and face, as she reached out with one hand to catch herself. Her fingers caught in something thick, something that pulled at her. She looked down through the surface of the water, squinting at the ghostly mass before her. Grabbing a handful, she realized it was hair. Turning the body over, she saw the thin neck, the breasts barely covered by tattered cloth, though the face was hidden in the tangle of hair. _A girl._ She was suddenly reminded of herself, and her conscience wouldn't let her let go.

Kara had never imagined she would ever save a drowning person; rather, she thought she might be the one who needed the saving, since she had always been a sporadic and spastic swimmer as a child. She wished someone had told her how difficult it might be, how the water was a jealous lover that would not let go. It took her three pulls to get the body up, and by then, her arms were burning and she could barely breathe through the pain of the cold water. She had almost fallen and gone completely under, trying to maneuver the body in her arms, when hands grabbed the back of her shirt, fingers twisting in the soaked cloth, before yanking her up.

Her teeth were chattering so badly she couldn't speak as Vex and Mercer pulled her up onto the stone path leading into the Flagon. Rune was standing there too, holding onto the sign announcing the pub's presence, looking pale and anxious. Tonilia and Vekel were still standing on the dock.

"Divines! What in Oblivion's name is _wrong_ with you?" Vex was shouting for the second time that day. She pushed Kara back down when she tried to stand up.

"She w-was drowning," Kara said, her words barely audible.

"If she's even still alive." Delvin suddenly appeared beside them holding a blanket.

Vex ripped it out of his hands, throwing it at Kara. "Stay still, you're freezing." After making sure Kara was wrapped in the blanket, she turned away, kneeling down beside Mercer to look at the girl laid out on the stone.

Kara couldn't see the girl beyond them, but she heard Vex swear suddenly. "What's wrong?" she asked, straining to sit up, to see. "What is it?" She crawled over.

Mercer held up one pale, limp arm, his fingers pressed hard to the wrist. "She's alive," he said, letting her arm drop back down. "But who knows for how long."

Clutching her blanket tightly, Kara knelt beside them, the ends of her hair swinging, dripping water onto the girl. "What do you mean? What's wrong with—" She broke off, gasping, as Mercer swept the girl's hair back away from her face.

The girl had been badly beaten. One of her closed eyes was swollen shut, the skin a dark purple. Her lip had been split, blood still leaking from it. She was only dressed in a torn tunic, her feet bare; Kara could see the scratches and burn marks all over her arms and legs. Her right hand was missing fingernails.

The girl couldn't have been much older than her, but Kara couldn't say for sure. There was something strange about her face, something elongated, something too fierce, her cheekbones sharp. Her tangled hair was long, longer than Vex's even, and a blonde so fine, it seemed almost white, shining in the faint sunlight pouring into the Flagon. Her skin was a dewy gold, her thin lips parted. Water shone between her teeth.

Before Kara could do anything, Vex reached forward and pounded her closed fist on the girl's chest. She jerked. Kara scowled, reaching for Vex, but Mercer's hand snapped out, closing around her wrist. "No," was all he said, as Vex hit the girl again. This time, when her body jumped, she convulsed, her body bowing, as there was a wet, squelching sound and she began coughing violently, turning over to spit up the water she'd inhaled when she had fallen.

"Oh. Right." Kara pulled herself out of Mercer's grip, feeling stupid yet again.

The girl stopped hacking and fell still, laying on her side. Her hair fell over her face, parting over one ear. Kara couldn't help gasping again.

"She's an elf!"

"Aye," Delvin agreed, nodding. "Bosmer. She sure is a long way from home."

Kara shook her head. She couldn't stop staring at the hand with the missing fingernails, the skin dried and leathery. "Who could have done this to her?"

Vex made a face. "Should I list off the possibilities alphabetically, or from most likely to least likely?"

"True. Who knows with the people we seem to consort with." Mercer moved some of the girl's hair aside again, turning her face towards the light so they could see the dark eye, the blood smeared across her skin. "Might be kinder to throw her in the canal while we have the chance. Finish the job."

"Are you crazy? We can't just kill her."

Vex turned to look at Kara. "Why not? Someone obviously wanted her dead. Maybe she's an oath-breaker or a kin-killer."

"That's—that's against the rules of the guild," Kara sputtered, staring between the two of them, wide-eyed. "Besides, look at her. She can't be much older than me, if she even _is_ older than me. We just…we can't."

There was silence for a long time, the lapping water and their breathing the only sounds from around them. While they sat there, watching her, a queer look came over Mercer's face, as he stared down at the young elf. Kara couldn't quite think of the word to describe what seemed to be going on inside his head, but she didn't like it at all.

Finally, he stood, looking over at Kara. "You're right."

Kara was dumbfounded. Her ears had to be playing tricks on her. "I am?"

Vex made a _tch_ sound. "She is?"

"Yes. Remember our conversation this morning?"

It was shrewd, Kara realized. _That_ was the word for the wheels turning inside his mind; he was planning something. She eyed him apprehensively. "Yes. Why?"

"Well, I think I've found an adequate punishment for you, something to teach you not to leap forward and to instead think things through." He stood, clapping Kara on the shoulder. "Congratulations. You wanted to save the damsel in distress, you saved her."

Vex snickered, but Kara frowned, still somewhat confused. "Wait. Explain to me how this is a punishment?"

"You are now officially Healer Kara. You will take this girl to a free bed. You will nurse her back to health, and when she wakes up, you will be the one to tell her she can't stay, and you will be the one to throw her back to whatever fate led her here in the first place. Understood?"

"But—" Kara was on the verge of protesting when she stopped.

She wanted nothing more than to do exactly what Mercer was doing, and dump the girl off on someone else. Sure, she hadn't wanted her to die, but that didn't mean Kara wanted to take care of her! Still, she couldn't help but hear voices in her head, one high and girlish, the other rough and deep. The first belonged to her cousin and best friend, Eiri, a healer and stupidly helpful, self-sacrificing person. The second…that voice belonged to Master Arngeir, the Greybeard she had spent the most time with up on the peak of High Hrothgar, trying to reconcile some of the chaos within her and learn what it meant to be Dragonborn.

Both of them were telling her to help the elf.

And so was Mercer. "This isn't a negotiable bargain," he said sternly. "You wanted to be a knight in shining armor, now that's what you'll be. Right," he barked at everyone else. "Don't you all have somewhere to be?"

Everybody nodded, mumbling to themselves. Vex stood and walked away to where Delvin was standing, the two of them talking. Tonilia rejoined Vekel at the bar, and Sapphire lent an arm to help Rune into the Cistern. He looked back over his shoulder at her apologetically.

"And you. Get that girl up and dried off before she catches cold. Don't you know anything?" Mercer shook his head as he walked away, back towards the door to the Cistern.

Kara hated being wrong, but even more than that, she hated when other people were right. _If I'm supposedly this Dragonborn of prophecy, and I'm supposed to save the world or Skyrim or whatever, then I may as well start here, right?_ Kara nodded to herself, even as an overwhelming wave swept over her. Master Arngeir would be pleased with her, persevering even despite her own anxiety. At least, that's what she told herself, as she rolled up the sleeves of her still-wet undershirt, and knelt down beside the elf girl.

"Hi there," she said, attempting a smile. It came out more as a grimace. "I'm known around here as Kara Quick-Draw, and this," she swept out one arm, reaching for the girl with the other, "is the Thieves Guild."

* * *

For nearly a week, the elf girl slept. Kara slept too, but not nearly as often, falling into her bed at the Bee and Barb only to wake several hours later in the midst of nightmares in which she was drowning. Dragging herself out of bed, she would dress and head back to the graveyard, through the mausoleum and into the Cistern to dab a cool rag at the girl's brow and watch her while she slept.

She fascinated the coming-and-going members of the guild, and they would often stop and sit with Kara to watch her and theorize about what might have happened to her. Niruin, an archer and fellow Bosmer, came by especially often, wondering aloud to Kara if his kinsman would ever wake. She didn't know; she wasn't a healer. Still, she did what she could, treating the minor scrapes and bruises the girl had, and even going so far as to bandage her right hand, if only so Kara wouldn't have to look at the nail-less fingers anymore.

The time alone without having to work gave Kara some time to think over the strange events of the last few days. Having the girl there was strange enough, and Kara had often wondered for hours who she was and why someone had dumped her in the well. She even went so far as to go up to the marketplace and ask around; only one of the vendors, an Argonian named Madesi, had seen something, and it was several hooded figures fleeing the scene. The guards had nailed new boards to the well the very next day, so there was little she could do to investigate. She returned to the elf girl feeling impatient and demoralized. She would just have to wait for the answers everyone wanted to know.

Beyond the elf, there were the new questions that had arisen in Kara's mind. What happened on the mountain with Rune and the frost troll wouldn't leave her alone; she kept inspecting her right hand, as if it might look different, but the scar was still there and for whatever reason, her magick had not come to her as difficultly as it had in the past. She remembered what Clavicus Vile had told her—she'd been touched by a dremora. She still had no idea what that was, knowing only that it was some form of daedra. She thought it might be possible that she had been made more powerful, but when she tried to cast a spell alone in the Cistern, her hand ached like she'd been stung, and cramped for the next few hours afterward. _So if I'm not more powerful, than what the hell happened back there?_ It seemed as though, despite coming back to Skyrim for answers, there was nothing but more questions, more riddles for her to solve.

On the ninth day since the elf girl's arrival, Rune stopped by. His arm had greatly improved, and he had told her all about how he had been working with weapons again in the training room. He had even been given a small, easy job from Delvin, and was on his way out when he came by.

"You're looking particularly exhausted this evening," he remarked, pulling up a chair and slouching into it.

Kara had been staring at the scar on her palm again; she quickly closed her fingers around it, blinking over at him, her eyes feeling sore and strained. "Thanks. I feel that way as well." She shook her head. "Why did I do this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Every time I try to do something good, it just goes to shit." She sat up, rubbing her face wearily. "I almost wish Brynjolf was here."

There was a slight pause, before Rune said, "You could always talk to me."

Kara smiled, blushing faintly without knowing why. She looked over at him. "Of course I can. But you know what? I don't want to talk about me anymore, I'm bored of me. I've been sitting here for hours, and when I'm not here, I'm in the Bee and Barb and we all know how fun _that_ is, so tell me what you've been doing."

He did, talking about his practice sessions, and about the latest jobs everyone had been pulling, and what the local gossip was. She was so glad to lose herself in his chatter, not answering often but listening intently, that she didn't even realize she no longer felt as tired and foul-tempered as she had before. Rune was many things, but his comforting and easy ways were his best qualities, the things that made Kara appreciate his presence all the more.

"...and Delvin got caught spying on Vex while she was bathing in the lake."

Kara let out a surprised laugh. "And how did that end up?"

"Well, Delvin may be a supposed master of sneak, but Vex is a master of cunning. She did that sexy voice she's got and convinced him to undress and come in with her, even though the water is freezing." Kara could see where the story was going, but she just grinned and listened patiently. "So he did—"

"Typical male."

Rune made a face at her. "So he did, and she dunked him under. Before he could come back up, she's out of the water, dressed, and making off with his clothes."

"_No_," Kara said, laughing.

"Yep. She didn't even leave his boots. He managed to sneak back in, and he got here about an hour ago, soaking wet and naked as the day he was born. There are a lot of things I want to see in my life, and that was not one of them." Rune shuddered theatrically. "So that's the main thing everyone's talking about."

Kara sighed. "I wish I had been there to see it." Suddenly she realized what she had said. She and Rune exchanged a look, before they both laughed. "No, I don't," she said, shaking her head.

"I understand what you mean, though," Rune said. "It's strange that you're not out and about doing things."

"I wish I could be, but until Elfie over here wakes up—"

Rune sputtered. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Elfie. I obviously don't know her name, so I've been calling her that."

"You know, naming something only makes it harder to let go of when the time comes."

Kara rolled her eyes. "She's not a dog, Rune, she's a person. I can't just keep calling her 'girl' all the time."

"Why not? That's what Mercer calls her."

The very mention of Mercer made her expression fall flat. "Yeah, well, Mercer can stuff himself."

"Oh, he's not so bad once you get used to him."

"If he lets you get used to him. The way he acts sometimes, it's almost like he doesn't _want_ people in the guild."

"He does, it's just...very complicated."

"Yeah, so I've heard." Not wanting to bring Rune's mood down, she managed a grin, leaning over to nudge him. "So, Vex and her _sexy voice,_ huh?"

Rune laughed. "Delvin's words, not mine."

"Right, right, I'm sure."

"Really! I've known Vex a long time, and she's just someone I work with. She's not really my type."

Kara was intrigued, about to ask him just who his type was, when suddenly there was a gasp from beside them. They both turned, looking over at the bed in time to see the elf open her eyes. They were almond-shaped and black as charcoal. She sat straight up, legs kicking at the blankets, gasping as if she was drowning all over again. She blinked in the light, looking around. When she noticed Rune and Kara sitting beside her, her eyes went wide. She lunged, her hands wrapping around Kara's throat.

Kara tried to make a noise, but the girl was crushing her windpipe. She reached up to try and pry her hands away, but she was strong, and Kara's own hands scrabbled uselessly. She was just thinking the most useless thought—that she might actually die—when the elf suddenly stopped squeezing. Kara glanced at her, only to see Rune holding a dagger to her throat.

"Let her go or you die," he growled.

Slowly, the elf did as she was told, her eyes narrowed at Rune. Kara had but a second to cough and take a breath, before the elf was up, leaping out of bed and away from Rune's blade. He let out a surprised shout as she sprinted for the walkway. Kara made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, jumping up to follow, knocking over her chair in her haste. Rune chased after her.

"Hey!" Kara called, voice hoarse.

The girl didn't turn back, instead running faster, nimbly jumping over barrels and beds with a grace Kara had never seen before in her life. She slammed open the door leading to the Ragged Flagon. Kara ran faster, her boots pounding on the stone, the sound echoing.

There was a banging sound from up ahead, followed by a yowling, like some sort of wild animal. When Kara and Rune skidded into the tavern, they found Vex and Dirge, Vekel's bouncer, wrestling with the girl. She was petite and slender, but evidently very strong as she kicked free from Dirge's grip, and punched him so hard that he went spinning to the floor. Vex jumped behind her, grabbing the girl by her hair and yanking her head up, baring her throat to another dagger.

"All right," Vex said, breathing hard. "I think that's quite enough, don't you?"

The elf snarled like a sabre-cat, baring her teeth.

"If you don't calm down right now, I'm going to sink this blade into your pretty little throat. How's that sound?"

Kara rushed in, stopping when she saw how Vex had the girl. She held her hands up. "Okay, okay. Let's not be too hasty. Vex, put your knife away."

"Are you serious? She—"

"Vex," Rune said, his voice a warning.

Vex looked between the two of them, annoyed and disbelieving.

"Just do it!" Kara snapped.

Surprisingly, Vex lowered her arm, looking between her two fellow thieves. "Fine. But if she makes one wrong move, she's dead." She shoved the elf away from her, and the three of them surrounded her in a triangle.

Kara, too, lowered her hands, looking closely at the elf. Her hair hung in her face, shielding her features from view. She stood with her shoulders hunched, her hands clenched at her sides. The right one was still bandaged. Kara noticed, with faint alarm, that her long fingers curled into a four-knuckled grip. No wonder her hands had been so strong.

"Are you all right?"

The elf didn't reply. Her body was vibrating visibly.

"Do you speak the common tongue?"

The elf's head jerked up, her eyes narrowed through the strands of her hair. The look on her face said the very question was insulting to her intelligence.

Kara nodded. "Okay. Um…we're not going to hurt you, regardless of what my idiot compatriot says."

A swift kick to the back of the knee, courtesy of Vex, made Kara buckle. She threw her arms out to catch herself. There was a sudden flash of movement, as the elf's hand shot out and grabbed her by the wrist in a vice grip, catching her. Slowly, Kara rose back to standing, her eyes wide. She tried not to stare, but it wasn't working so well.

"Who are you?" the elf asked, not letting go of Kara just yet. Her voice was higher than Kara had imagined it would be, though very rough. Her accent was rich, the words curling off her tongue, sounding like dry leaves being crushed beneath booted feet.

"I'm Kara. This is Vex, Rune, Tonilia, Vekel, and that man over there is Dirge. We… live down here."

She raised her head, her black eyes lingering on Kara. "Are you the Thieves Guild?"

Kara looked at Vex over her shoulder. Vex sighed laboriously and rolled her eyes, nodding tersely.

Kara turned back, nodding as well. "Yeah, yeah, we are. It's not just us, though. Back where we were, that's where the real goings-on…go on." Rune cleared his throat pointedly, but she ignored him. "I swear we aren't trying to hurt you."

She looked around the room, taking her time. Behind the bar, Vekel was watching them guardedly. Kara was sure he had a dagger in his hand, hidden beneath the counter. Tonilia too was there, but mired in shadow. Kara couldn't say how she knew for sure, but she had a distinct feeling that the elf also knew this.

Finally, she looked down at her bandaged hand. "I'm already hurt." She sounded confused, as if she didn't realize how it had happened.

"Yeah, you fell into the well. We—well, _I_ saved you." Clearing her throat, Kara asked, "What's your name?"

She suddenly shook her head, her grip tightening on Kara's wrist. "Water," she said roughly. "Give me water."

Slowly, Kara nodded.

* * *

Once the daggers were put away, Rune and Kara led the elf back into the Cistern. It was mid-afternoon, so the others who had been in there sleeping had woken to the commotion and were looking around, bewildered. Leaving Rune to explain to them what had gone on, she sat the girl down at a table, gave her some soup and bread, and went delving into their hidden stores of supplies back in the Flagon for some clothes she could change into. While she was rifling around in a chest, Kara found something blue and soft; thinking it might fit the girl, she pulled out. She was immediately disturbed to find it was a child's dress, much too small for the elf. Confused, Kara looked even deeper into the chest, finding more small clothes, a ribbon, and a doll. _But why would there be kid's stuff in here?_

"Oy, Kara!"

Surprised, Kara suddenly shoved the dress back in the chest, slamming it shut. She peeked her head out around the cupboard. Vekel and Tonilia had Dirge sitting down at one of the tables, his head bleeding. Vekel was looking at her, one hand outstretched. "Throw me a rag, will you?"

Kara nodded, grabbing one from the bar and tossing it over to him. Pushing the child's things to the furthest corner of her mind, she kept looking until she found a pair of dusty green breeches, a moth-eaten brown shirt, worn boots, and a belt. Grabbing them all, she headed back into the Cistern to the sounds of Dirge's muttered curses.

Once Kara got near enough, she stopped dead. Rune seemed to have left to do whatever job Delvin had given him, leaving the elf with Niruin and Thrynn. She was talking animatedly, gesturing wildly, and whatever she said made them laugh heartily. Kara watched as she smiled into her tankard of mead. Kara could do nothing but stare, too surprised. The girl had gone from insane and murderous to charismatic and right at home. Against her will, Kara felt annoyed. Why had it taken her such a long time to get in the good graces of these people when it only took the elf five minutes? _Does a person need to have pointy-ears to be accepted around here? _

Kara scowled. She was just about to walk over there, when someone grabbed her shoulder. She expected Rune, but when she turned, it was Mercer standing there. To her surprise, he wasn't glaring at her, but at the elf. "Well?" he asked. "What's her story?"

"I don't know," Kara said, shaking her head. "She knew we were the Thieves Guild, though."

"I'm not sure if that's good or bad for us." Mercer motioned towards her. "Why don't you go make friends, and come back to me when you actually know something?"

Kara sighed. She was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to go to her bed, drag the covers up over her head, and sleep for as long as she possibly could, but it seemed now, more than ever, that Mercer was determined to ruin her life.

Scowling, Kara marched over to the table, dumping the clothes on top of it unceremoniously beside the elf. "Here," she said, plopping down opposite her beside Niruin. "Those are for you."

"Hello Kara," Thrynn said. "We were just talking to Tam here."

"Tam?" She looked over at the elf girl blankly. "That's your name?"

"Nickname. It's short for Tamsin." She sounded much better with some food and drink in her, her voice less harsh and face much more calm. Kara's suspicions about her age seemed to be correct; while she had the severe angular face of a wood elf, there was still something young about it, in her eyes and in the way she smiled. She reached a hand across the table to shake, the grip of her unbandaged hand strong. "Tamsin Ranethel, at your service."

"Service, huh? Who exactly are you?"

Niruin leaned forward on his elbow. "We were just discussing that, actually. Turns out she and I have some roots in common, besides Valenwood."

Tamsin nodded. "My parents died when I was young, so I was on my own. I convinced the Silver Crescents to take me in, and ran with them until now."

Kara nodded, remembering how Niruin had shared his past with her, mentioning the Bosmer thieves he had run with down south. "Right. So you're a thief." Kara gestured around. "Looks like you landed in the right place."

She nodded again, looking down at her hands. "I wasn't always proud of what I had to do, but it's not an easy life they left me to. You do what you have to do to get by, and I've made a bit of a name for myself back in Valenwood."

"What happened?"

"My father was a soldier, my mother a shaman. They were both killed during the Great War. If you ask me, war does nothing but profit the rich and leave a great many orphans to fend for themselves in a wide, frightening world."

"You've got a point there," Thrynn said. Vipir the Fleet gestured to him across the room and he excused himself with a nod, leaving the table.

Kara turned her attention back to Tamsin, thinking of what Mercer had told her. "So that's what brings you here?"

"In a sense. I was bored of the trees and the people. I wanted something new."

"And you wanted something as far away from your home as possible?" Kara didn't mean to sound like she was being judgmental, but she had a strange feeling that something wasn't quite right about Tamsin's story, like something was missing.

Niruin nodded before Tamsin could reply. "I understand that feeling."

Kara had no choice but to agree as well. _It's probably nothing_, she thought. _Just not used to a newcomer, is all. _"Right. So you want to explain to us how it was you came to fall into our humble abode?"

The relaxed look on Tamsin's face faltered, her smile vanishing. "They dumped me in the well, didn't they?"

"You tell me. Who's they?"

Tamsin shrugged, looking away. "I...I don't know. I don't remember." She itched at one of her palms absently; Kara couldn't help focusing on the bandaged hand for a split-second, remembering just how they'd found her. She _had_ been beaten...but badly enough to spark memory loss?

"You don't remember anything? Not who did this to you, or why they'd want to do it?"

Tamsin frowned. "Why are you asking me so many questions?"

Kara pointed over her shoulder, to where Mercer was standing across the way. "Guild master wants to know."

The frown eased up slightly. "You think he might want to take me on? I do owe you for saving my life, and I mislike being indebted to others."

"Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves. He wants to know who you are first, and why someone might want to dump you in a well."

"I told you, I don't remember. I must have hit my head on the way down; it's all just a blank spot."

"Even before that?"

Tamsin shook her head fervently. "The last thing I remember is crossing the border." When Kara paused, she blinked at her with those liquid black eyes. "You think there's a chance I might be able to stay here? I ran with the Crescents for twelve years, and I've seen things, done a lot. I could be useful, especially to a struggling guild."

Kara narrowed her eyes. "How do you know we're struggling?"

Tamsin just looked at her like it was obvious. "Everybody knows the Thieves Guild up here is nearly non-existent. It's all but dried up."

"We're working on that," Niruin said. "We've got Kara now, and she's pretty good. Tell Tam about how you and Brynjolf broke into the Mages' College."

Tamsin turned to stare, obviously impressed. "The College? How'd you manage that?"

Kara smiled in spite of herself. It was one of her proudest moments as a thief, even it had led to some weird events afterward, and she loved recounting it whenever she could. "Actually, it was all because of my cousin. You see, she ran away from home, and then—"

A throat cleared behind her. She stopped, shoulders tensing, as she immediately recognized the timbre of the voice. Slowly, she turned, looking up into the face of Mercer. She smiled brightly. "Oh, hello, Mercer."

He grunted, before turning his steely gaze on Tamsin. "I'm the guild master, Mercer Frey. I see you're making yourself comfortable around here."

Tamsin bowed her head politely. "Thank you. If I hadn't fallen in here, I don't know what would have happened to me."

"I do. You'd have been dead, and there wouldn't be yet another mouth to feed." He scowled down at her. "Don't you have someplace to go?"

"She doesn't remember," Kara offered.

"How did you know we were the Thieves Guild?"

Tamsin looked at Kara nervously before her eyes flicked back to Mercer. "Why else would a bunch of people be living down in the sewers?"

Kara shrugged. As much as she didn't trust the elf, she had a point.

Mercer, however, was not so convinced. "Right. And you can't remember a single thing? Not one?"

Tamsin's eyes widened. She sat up straighter. "I—I must have hit my head on the way down or something. Anything recent is just...gone. But I was just telling Kara how I ran with the Silver Crescents back in Valenwood, just like Niruin. I'm a decent thief," she added hastily. "I could pull my weight around here."

Mercer looked down at her injured hand. "Could you even hold a lockpick in your state?"

"I—"

"Answer's no." He turned on one heel to leave.

Tamsin looked as if she was about to burst into tears, her whole face crumpling. Kara shouldn't have cared, knowing they were most likely better off without her, knowing that there was something _wrong_ about her and the easy way she could charm others around her, but she was reminded so much of her young cousin Eiri in that moment that her heart panged and she suddenly leaped up from the table. "Mercer, wait."

He stopped, turning to look back. "What?"

"You have to let her stay."

He raised his eyebrows, turning all the way around to face her, arms folded over his chest. "I don't _have_ to do anything, but for the moment, I'm curious. Why do I _have_ to let her stay?"

"Because you're always saying how we need to get our organization back on the map. And maybe some new blood is what it takes. Yeah, maybe Brynjolf was wrong about me, but let's say he was right about needing new people to make it happen. What if she's it? Do you really want to let that opportunity pass?"

Mercer took a few steps forward, leaning in. "Very heartfelt, Quick-Draw, but what else have you got for me?"

Kara made a face. "Excuse me?"

"Remember that little punishment of mine?" He leaned back with a wolfish grin, pointing at Tamsin. "If she stays, there are going to be some conditions. First of all, she is _not_ a member of the guild, she's merely a pledge that we _may_ let in if she proves herself. I don't want to make the same mistake twice." Kara ignored the pointed jab, though it stung. "Secondly, you were the one who wanted to save her, you're the one who wants her to stay, so until she can stand on her own two feet and until she has proven herself an asset, the pair of you will be joined at the hip." He looked at both Kara and Tamsin. "Is that understood?"

They both nodded.

"Good. Now, get her cleaned up and find her a spare bed. There should still be a few without bugs in them. Oh, and Kara," he said, as she had begun to turn away, pleased with herself for winning a battle against him. "As her caretaker, you are fully responsible for her. If she succeeds, you succeed; she fails...same idea. Are we clear?"

Kara nodded. "As a Morning Star sky."

"Excellent. Get your asses up and get to work then; we won't make money with you sitting around gabbing like old women."

Kara turned around in time to see Niruin hug Tamsin in welcome, before he left to do as Mercer said. Tamsin seemed to relax again at the table, an expression of mingling disbelief and satisfaction on her face. Kara walked over to her, almost happy as well. She had done good things, things that might make the Greybeards—and everyone else who believed she was some legendary savior—proud; on top of that, she had managed to best Mercer Frey, and even though there was a lot of threatening going around and some uncertain feelings, it still felt like a victory, and that alone was enough to boost her mood.

"So," she said, looking at Tamsin. "You ready?"

Tamsin grinned. _I better be right about this_ was her only thought as she led the way for Tamsin into the guild.

* * *

Tamsin watched the strange-looking Nord go, clutching the clothes to her chest. There weren't many places for privacy in the Cistern, the girl had explained, but they had some divider panels that worked well enough. Sensing she might look back, Tamsin ducked back behind the divider, shucking the thin, moldy clothes she'd been wearing.

She hadn't been lying, but she hadn't entirely been truthful, either. What she had been doing before they dumped her in the well...that wasn't something you just _told_ people, especially since she had been running away from something else, a life she had foolishly stepped into before realizing the consequences. But when she woke up and saw the girl, she remembered the slip of paper, the description she'd been given.

"_Word is she's a Nord, but looks a little funny, like she's maybe a half-blood. Doesn't matter. Her name's Kara Skjarnor, and she holes up in Riften. Go."_

Tamsin stepped up to the divider, staring between one of the hinged cracks. The girl was across the way, her curly black hair spilling over her shoulders wildly as she spooned stew into a bowl. Kara, she'd said. How many Kara's could their possibly be in Riften? The Gods were surely watching over Tamsin, to send her directly into the arms of the girl she'd been looking for. And if she pulled it off, there was just a chance she might be able to right her wrongs and return, even if she didn't want to, even if it was only to stop them from coming after _her_.

Tamsin leaned back. She dressed in the new clothes quickly, savoring the feel of dry, clean fabric, even if it was clear the clothes hadn't been worn in a long time. Running her long fingers through her hair to brush it, she couldn't help but feel amazed at how easy it was to get in. So much for the legendary secrecy of the Thieves Guild.

She smiled as she straightened, crumpling up her old clothes into a tiny ball. _Look who's coming to stay._


	4. You Can't Handle the Elf

For the first few days, Tamsin wasn't so bad. It still annoyed Kara endlessly that nearly everyone in the guild seemed to like her, but showing her around Riften and explaining how the guild worked felt almost like an adventure. No longer feeling threatened or pursued, she was much livelier than she had been, talking a mile a minute and making each little discovery feel new and exciting to Kara. Kara herself even began to like the idea of being someone's mentor; it made her feel like the Greybeards would have something to pride her on, and it also made her feel much more important in the guild. Maybe this was exactly the thing she had needed to prove herself to everyone else.

The following two weeks, however, were a nightmare. Whoever Tamsin had been before quickly derailed, as it seemed the elf was _crazy_. That was the only way that Kara could accurately describe the elf's antics. Her attitude started going downhill in the third week of her stay. She was much quieter and less enthusiastic, sighing constantly throughout Kara's advice and information, and even falling asleep at one point, only to be woken by a swift kick to the leg. Over the next few days, she hardly spoke at all, and when she did, it was to snap at Kara for the littlest of things. She looked sick as well, pale and sweaty. Kara initially chalked it to her still feeling unwell after what had happened to her, but that excuse could only last so long, and it didn't explain the bizarre mood swings.

Sometimes, she was hyperactive and restless, ignoring half of what Kara said to do in order to do what she felt like instead, including disappearing for hours at a time on some days, and skipping out in the middle of jobs at the first sight of guards. After one such incident, Kara stomped back to the Cistern, seething, to find her relaxing and chatting with Thrynn and Vipir the Fleet. When Kara yelled, the two of them adamantly stuck up for Tamsin, and that just made Kara even angrier; in the months she had been with them, they had never once stuck up for her like that. She wanted to punch something.

Other times, Tamsin spontaneously and frequently burst into bouts of hysterical sobbing that took Kara over an hour to stop each time. She never said what was wrong; even if she did, Kara could never understand her anyway through all the blubbering.

By the end of the third week, Kara was losing her mind. Niruin tried to vouch for Tamsin several times. "She's young," he explained. "She's barely thirty. To you, that's old enough to mature, but for us, she's still an adolescent and she's surely going through some changes right now. Try to be patient with her, and I'm sure everything will work out fine."

Try as she might, Kara couldn't follow his advice. She was impatient enough as it was; throw a whiny wood elf into the mix, and she was done. At the end of the three weeks, rather than wake Tamsin up to go out (since she had overslept by four hours), Kara threw her hands up and left, heading for the Flagon for a drink. Divines knew she could use one.

On her way through the secret doorway hidden in a cupboard, she tripped over a bucket and nearly went sprawling. Lucky for her, someone just happened to be on their way in, and they caught her in surprise.

"Well," Rune said with a laugh, helping her up. "It's not every day you're the damsel in distress."

"Oh, shut up, you," Kara said, pushing a renegade curl out of her eye and trying to push past him.

He grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Hang on a minute. Hello to you, too, Kara."

"Hi. Now, if you don't mind—"

His voice lost its teasing tone as his brow furrowed. "Hey, hey, what's the matter?"

Kara thought of brushing him off, thought of ignoring him and heading straight for the bar, but then she remembered it was Rune. She could tell him anything, and in the absence of Brynjolf, she needed a friend. She sighed, slumping her shoulders. She quickly explained all about Tamsin, trying not to raise her voice or break the broom leaning against the wall beside them, reigning in the anger that still set her on edge.

"And I know Mercer will think I'm a failure if he finds out I can't even do this _one_ thing, so I'm thinking I should just tell him that I can't do it and get it over with. Better I go to him now than have him kick me out later, right?"

"All right, okay, let's just take a minute to think this through. Will going to Mercer solve anything? Not only is he busy, but he doesn't like people wasting his time." When she tried to interrupt, he held up a hand. "I know it may not be what you want to hear, but _you_ wanted this. You wanted to help her and bring her in, just like Brynjolf wanted to do with you. Now she's your responsibility."

_Divines damn him for having to be logical. _"I _know_, but—"

Rune reached up, tapping her nose. "Ah, ah, ah. No but's. Tell you what. How about you and I go out tomorrow and you can spend some time away from her? Perhaps that's the real problem here; you've spent so much time with her, you want to throttle her."

"Among other things," Kara muttered darkly. Still, she liked what Rune was suggesting. It would be nice to get out and away. Kara liked the guild as much as the next thieving vagrant, but being around the same people all the time was wearing on her. Not only that, but she hated being underground, especially for long periods of time.

She nodded. "All right. We'll get away from Tamsin and then—"

"Then you can clear your head for a while and come back in with a new perspective. I'll even help you out with Tamsin. All right?"

Kara nodded again. She could always count on Rune to make her feel better. "Sounds like an excellent plan to me. For now, though, I could still use a drink."

"Great. I've got to report in, but I'll come and join you in a moment, shall I?" Kara nodded eagerly. He smiled and strolled past her into the Cistern. She hung back in the doorway for a moment, leaning against the wall, nudging the bucket with her foot.

She hadn't expected it to be easy, but she hadn't expected it to be this hard, either. So far, coming back to Skyrim had been one nightmare after another; briefly, she wondered if she had made the right decision at all. She could've been fetching eggs from the hen house or helping her aunt cook, waiting eagerly on the steps for Eiri to visit on the weekends so the two could gossip and giggle together like they used to. Suddenly Kara snorted, remembering the heist they'd pulled in Windhelm, remembering the rush of pure, fiery adrenaline. _Yeah, right._ Like she could ever just be content with the domestic life. Still, it was nice to dream.

Rune came back a few minutes later and the two of them sat at a table in the corner, enjoying a hot meal of beef stew and potato bread made by Vekel. By the end of it, Kara was laughing again at Rune's impersonation of Delvin's nasally voice, glad that the more experienced thief was out and about on business of his own. Even Tonilia managed to crack a grin as she walked past them.

"So there's always something I've been wondering," Kara said, setting her bottle down on the table. "About your name. Brynjolf mentioned it once, but he never really went into detail."

Rune nodded like he'd been expecting it. "Ah, yes, the name. Everyone always asks."

"Well, there's got to be a story behind it, right?"

"Yes. Or perhaps it's the lack of one that's the story."

"Tell me. If you don't mind, that is."

"No, no, it's fine. I've told it so many times by now that it could never bother me." He grinned. "When I was a young boy, a fisherman found me off the coast of Solitude. I had nothing else but the clothes on my back and a stone in my pocket with strange symbols on it, strange runes. He figured I'd come in on a ship that had wrecked and had somehow miraculously survived. He and his wife adopted me, and ever since then that's the only story to my life I've ever known."

"So he called you Rune because of the stone?"

He nodded. "He liked it and it just seemed to stick."

"Well, do you know what the runes mean?"

Rune shook his head. "And nobody else does. I've spent almost every septim I've earned working down here trying to get answers. It's like they don't exist."

Kara thought that was one of the strangest stories she'd ever heard, but when she thought about her own past and the odd turn her life had taken lately, she could understand it. "I know this sounds cryptic and unhelpful, but maybe you aren't meant to know."

"That has occurred to me. But why shouldn't I be meant to know? It could help me unlock who I am."

Kara was just about to ask Rune something else, something about who _he_ wanted to be, when he suddenly looked past her. His smile dimmed somewhat, but still remained friendly. "Hello Tamsin," he said pleasantly. "And how are you tonight?"

Kara stiffened. She refused to turn around, reaching for her bottle instead.

"Fine. You?"

"Great. We're just having a meal before I turn in. It's been a while since I've slept."

Kara frowned, looking at him. "Why didn't you say something? I would have let you sleep."

He smiled warmly at her. "It's fine, Kara. I wanted to see you."

Kara felt the blush rising to her cheeks. So Rune wouldn't see, she quickly turned away, facing Tamsin over the back of her chair. Kara was almost surprised to find her dressed, the daggers she had found for the elf at her hips. There were dark circles under Tamsin's eyes, however, and her skin was waxy. Rune gestured for her to sit beside them and she did, turning to face Kara. She worried at the skin of her lip between her teeth.

"Would you like something to eat?"

Tamsin shook her head quickly. She did reach for the tankard of mead he poured her though, her hands shaking. "Thanks." She took a deep drink, nearly spilling it all over herself, before setting it down as steadily as she could. "Kara, I need to talk to you."

"No time. Now that you're up, we have work to do. Vex gave us a job."

"Can't it wait?"

"No, it can't. You're already four hours late, and I'm done covering for you. Do you want to leave the guild? Because you know that's what will happen if you can't prove you deserve to be here."

"Kara," Rune said, sounding somewhat surprised.

Kara ignored him. She was angry, and in that moment, she didn't care who knew it. She'd stuck her neck out for Tamsin more than once, and she wasn't impressed with how the elf was paying her back, not when she should have been more than grateful. She was the one who had wanted to stay so badly, the one who had claimed she was good at this, and if she wasn't going to at least try, then why bother wasting Kara's time?

Tamsin took a deep breath. "I understand that you're looking out for your own interests, since your reputation rides on mine, but do you think—"

Kara suddenly stood, pushing her chair back. "We've already lost enough moonlight, don't you think?"

"I..." Tamsin hung her head. She nodded. "Yes, I suppose we have."

"Fine. Meet me in the marketplace. Bye, Rune."

"See you." He no longer looked happy or animated. He too left the table, heading for the Cistern, while Kara made for the Ratway. Normally she would have preferred to let a giant rip her limb from limb than go traipsing through the dark, dank sewers again, but she didn't want to go after Rune, not when she had a feeling some sort of disapproving remark would follow. He was a great friend to her, but he had much more patience than she did, and where Tamsin was concerned, Kara was just about finished.

It was Sun's Dawn now, and though the name of the month gave hope for warmer times, it was nighttime and still cold. Riften was empty, the nearly-full moon turning the frost-covered buildings and stones into a shining array of silver, a winter wonderland where everything glittered and gleamed, like a strongbox full of jewels. Kara pulled her hood up as she crouched on one of the low walls circling the marketplace, staring out into the night.

Tamsin arrived no more than ten minutes later, bundled up in a raggedy cloak she must have borrowed from someone in the guild. Her cheeks were stung red by the cold and her eyes seemed dull, unlike their usual oil-slick shine. Kara was about to ask about it, before remembering they had work to do, that Mercer would flay her if she messed up one more thing.

"It's nice and empty," she remarked as Tamsin stood beside her. "We shouldn't have a problem."

"Kara, look—"

"We really don't have time to talk, all right? Later. For now, we need to focus on your pickpocketing. How well would you say you can do it?"

Tamsin shrugged ineffectually, mumbling to herself.

Kara's frown deepened. "The basic principle is the same as all thieving: Don't get caught. You have to be light and fast, gone before they even know something is wrong. Okay?"

Tamsin nodded wearily. She was trembling again; Kara chalked it up to the cold. She herself, as half-Imperial, was no stranger to being uncomfortable during Skyrim's fierce winter, but for the races who were used to warmer climates, she knew it had to be even worse.

"Great. So someone's been shooting their mouth off in town, and Vex wants us to take advantage of that. We're going to break into Haelga's Bunkhouse, steal Grelka's diamond ring, and bring it back to Vex. Got it?"

"Wait. Haelga's Bunkhouse?"

"Yeah. You know it?"

Tamsin shook her head wildly. "No, I just—How are we going to get in? Someone's always at the counter downstairs. Or they should be, I guess. I don't know."

"No, you're right, they are. It's usually Haelga or her niece, Svana. But that's why we're not going in through the front door." Jumping down off the wall, Kara began heading for the Bunkhouse.

Tamsin hurried after her. "What do you mean?"

"Sometimes being a thief means being creative. And athletic. So we're going to climb up the side wall, the one closest to that empty house, and in through one of the windows. Then we'll find Grelka, you'll get the ring, and we'll be back out the way we came."

"Seems easy enough," Tamsin muttered, though Kara could tell she looked worried. Kara was still too annoyed with her to care.

They reached the Bunkhouse across town quickly, walking nearly silently across the wooden bridges spanning Riften. They stopped out front, the two of them looking up at the large log building. The windows on the first floor glowed a warm gold, but the ones on the second floor were dark, just the way Kara liked. She tapped Tamsin on the arm and jerked her head to the left, to the lane between the Bunkhouse and the empty house on the northwest side of town.

She hadn't brought her bow with her this time, not when they were sure to be working in close quarters, so she knew the climb would be easier on her. "Watch me," she whispered to Tamsin, before she began climbing up the woven ends of the logs that made up the walls at the corner the way Brynjolf had once shown her, putting her weight on her tiptoes.

The log ends only went so far up, though, forcing her to jump and grab onto the ledge below the small row of windows. Straining, she pulled herself up to push on the nearest window above her hands. It opened with a slight creak, and she pulled herself inside, wiggling to slide through the narrow opening, dropping to the floor as quietly as possible. Once inside, she opened the window wide, leaning out to help pull Tamsin up and inside. When they were both inside, Kara reminded Tamsin to pull her hood up before they began walking through the room, inspecting the rows of beds filling the grimy space. Most of them were occupied, blankets drawn up over indistinguishable heads.

Grelka slept in a dingy bed at the far end by the door leading to a hall, some of the light from the sconce out there falling into the room. She was laying on her side, the leather armor she normally wore piled up on the floor beside her bed. Her dark hair fell over her face, strands of it fluttering slightly in front of her nose as she breathed. There were no rings on her fingers.

"Where is it?" Tamsin asked, her voice so quiet it was all breath. She kept looking around, eyes darting back and forth nervously. At least, Kara thought so; it was hard to tell when her eyes were nearly as black as the night around them.

Kara gestured for Tamsin to keep looking, as she ducked down to go through her leather armor and check under the bed. Nothing. Tamsin had just finished going through the bedside table on Grelka's left when Kara resurface. She too shook her head. _Well, where the hell is it?_

Suddenly Grelka let out a sigh, rolling over. As she did, a leather throng fell out of the collar of her shirt across her shoulder to the side of her head. Strung on it was the gold diamond ring she'd been flaunting from her mysterious lover, the one Vex had overheard her gloating about. _Remind me to never piss off Vex,_ Kara thought, as she pointed to the ring. The diamond glittered beautifully in the faint light coming from the hall sconce and the open window.

Tamsin looked at the ring and then back up at Kara. "_What do I do?_" she mouthed. Kara wasn't entirely sure; she had never been in a scenario such as this before. They couldn't tear the throng off; Grelka would feel it and wake up. They couldn't slip it off, either; no doubt she was laying on it, and her head would need to be lifted for that.

Kara pointed to one of Tamsin's daggers, miming at her to cut it. Tamsin nodded, coming around to Kara's side of the bed. As gingerly as she could, she slid one of her daggers out of its sheath. She pinched the leather between two fingers, putting the knife into the loop it created and pulling up sharply. The leather snapped quietly, the ring rolling off the end of it and onto the floor. Kara made a face, the gold thunking heavily to the wood floor. She grabbed Tamsin's wrist and dragged her down onto the floor beside the bed, but Grelka only murmured something in her sleep and rolled over. Someone else down at the far end of the room rolled over as well, their bed creaking, but that was it.

Kara shot a glare at Tamsin, but secretly, she was relieved. That could have gone a lot worse. She thought of the job she and Vex had pulled in Whiterun, realizing she was now in Vex's place. She could suddenly empathize and understand Vex's position, understanding the anger the Imperial woman had felt after Kara had botched the job. Luckily, things hadn't gone so bad for them. As Tamsin grabbed the ring and slid it into her pocket, sheathing her dagger, Kara was actually quite proud of what they had accomplished. Nobody had been stabbed, kissed, or otherwise embarrassed. Maybe Tamsin wasn't so bad after all.

They were on the way out when she completely changed her evaluation of the night's events. Tamsin had already shimmied out of the window and was climbing down. Wanting to make sure she got down safely before going after her, Kara was waiting when she heard the muffled curse behind her. She turned in time to see the person in the bed closest to her sit up. "Blasted Svana," they muttered. "Always leaving the windows open when it's _freezing_." The voice sounded male, but Kara didn't recognize it. He didn't seem awake enough to have noticed her.

She knew it wasn't a good idea, but she leaned out anyway. "Tamsin," she hissed. "Wait."

Tamsin looked up at her. In the moonlight, her normally black eyes looked almost...red. Kara was taken aback for all of one second, before she held up a hand, pointing back over her own shoulder. Tamsin nodded.

There was a creaking sound behind her. She turned to see the person swing his legs out of bed. She froze, moving away from the window into the shadows of the corner. Her heart felt like it was swelling in her chest. She watched, holding her breath, as he went to the window. She thought he might just shut it, but to her horror, he leaned against the sill and looked out. He didn't make a sound, just stared down into the darkened street. He didn't react, just stood there and breathed in the cold night air.

Kara frowned. That wasn't right. He should have been able to see—

She jumped out of the shadows, grabbing the man from behind. Clamping a hand over his mouth, she pulled him away from the window. Fighting his squirming, she leaned her head back out the window. The street below was empty. _Gods damn you, Tamsin_, Kara thought, anger washing through her. Roughly yanking the man back, she struggled to pull out her dagger, all the while her thoughts racing over Tamsin's newest brand of idiocy.

He pulled particularly hard against her hold on him and her grip slipped. His teeth closed around her hand—she yelped—and the entire job went almost instantly to chaos. She released him and he scurried away, yelling all the while. Everyone in the room seemed to wake at once, jumping out of their beds, shouting and asking what was going on. She had a split-second to decide what to do, and she decided the only thing she could do was run.

Dodging around the confused people, she jumped over a bed, and ran for the way out. Thankful that her hood was still up, she rounded the corner and nearly fell down the stairs, she was running so fast. At the bottom, she ran into the woman who owned the place, Haelga. She looked fresh from bed in her nightclothes, holding a candle to see what all the fuss was about. This time Kara was ready; whipping out her dagger, she grabbed Haelga and got behind her, holding the knife to her neck. Haelga shrieked and dropped the candle; it promptly went out.

Some of the people had followed her from upstairs; when they saw her holding the knife to Haelga's neck, they stopped on the stairs. The sconces glowing on the walls showed her their faces; Grelka and the man Kara had grabbed, a Dunmer she had seen once before, among them.

"Back," she snapped, walking backwards with Haelga. "All of you get back."

They inched back up the stairs slowly, as if afraid any sudden movements would push her to kill.

"Good. Now, I'm going to get out of here, and then—" There was only time for her to hear a shuffle of footsteps behind her and the rush of air before something slammed into her head. Pain dulled the edge of her vision, black spots punctuating her eyesight. Her hold on Haelga loosened, and she dropped to her knees, stunned.

"Svana, run for the guards," Haelga said, her voice high and frightened. _Of course_, Kara thought numbly. _Svana. Someone's always behind the counter._.. Haelga took a step towards her, but she brandished her dagger and the woman stopped, hands up.

Shuffling to the wall, Kara put her free hand out and pulled herself up. Her head was pounding, but it felt surprisingly light, her thoughts cloudy. There on the floor beside her was a statue of Dibella, something dark marring the base of it. She frowned. _Dark? But..._ Reaching behind her, she touched the back of her neck; her hood was wet. Looking at her fingers in the dim candlelight, she saw the red, and her knees wobbled. The room spun dizzily around her, and she felt as if she might throw up.

She had only taken two steps when the doors swung open and Svana, Haelga's niece, had returned. "That's the one," she said, pointing at Kara dramatically. "The thief!"

Two guards swept in behind her, and Kara suddenly realized what that meant. She remembered her time in Cyrodiil, the years she had spent in prison, the scar on her arm that still marked her as a thief back in the Imperial homeland. If they saw it, they'd know. If they caught her, she'd go back to that dank, dark place, and she couldn't, _wouldn't—_

They were already closing in on her but she didn't care. She surged forward like an animal caught in a trap, but there were two of them and they were stronger than her. Their hands went around her arms in a vise-grip, and no amount of struggling did anything except to make her head hurt even more. She snarled at them, determined not to go down without a fight no matter how badly it hurt. They had just pulled her out of the Bunkhouse when she heard a singing of steel, and again, something slammed into the back of her head.

She went limp, blackness engulfing her.

* * *

She woke with a terrible headache to dim light. She tried to shut her eyes and force herself back to sleep, half-convinced she was back in the Cistern, but she couldn't do it, not when a draft of cold air engulfed her and she realized that she was _not_ back in the familiar warmth. She opened her eyes, struggling to sit up as her head pounded and waves of nausea tossed her back and forth. Leaning against a cold stone wall, she reached to feel the back of her head; her hair was tangled and crusty with dried blood. Grimacing, she dropped her hands, looking down at herself—and at her surroundings—for the first time.

Her heart skidded to a near stop when she realized what she was seeing. Her clothes were gone; instead, she was wearing a roughspun tunic and pants, her feet bare and freezing. It only took one look around at the three stone walls surrounding her and the one wall of iron bars to know exactly where she had ended up. Her throat nearly closed with panic; instinctively, she reached for it, her breathing harsh as she pulled herself up to standing along the rough stone.

_Prison._ She had sworn to herself that after what happened back in Cyrodiil, she would never land herself in this situation again. "Technically, I didn't," she murmured, walking the length of the cell to the bars that looked out into the Riften jail. "Technically, this is all her fault." So perhaps she hadn't broken her promise, after all. A surge of fury swept over her, as she thought of Tamsin. She should have known better.

Somewhere, somebody chuckled, their voice rusty and deep. "That's what they all say."

Kara stiffened. "What is?"

"It was someone else's fault. Right?"

"That's because it _is_."

"Oh, you don't need to tell me. I feel the same way."

Kara edged towards the wall to her left, squinting at small cracks in the stones, looking for one big enough to peer through. When she found one, she discovered a bleary blue eye looking back at her. She gasped and jumped back, the deep voice on the other side laughing.

"Calm yourself, girl. What's your name?"

"Give me your name first, and maybe I'll tell you mine."

"All right, fine enough. Name's Molgrom Twice-Killed."

Kara quirked an eyebrow. "Twice-Killed? How is that possible?"

"A thief I insulted almost killed me once."

"But he didn't, I'm assuming."

"Nope. Twice-Killed just has a nice ring to it."

"Of course. Well, I'm Kara Quick-Draw. At least, that's what some people call me."

"Pleasure to meet you."

"Yeah, you too."

Taking a deep breath, Kara leaned back to the wall, looking through the hole with her right eye. He had moved backwards so she could see more of his face; his head had been shaved, but a long greasy-looking yellow beard hung from his chin. His face looked so dirty that it seemed a part of him, like he had been born that way.

"What are you in for?" she asked curiously.

"Murder. Was a member of the Thieves Guild, but they took exception to my killing the marks."

"You were in the Thieves Guild?"

"Still am," Molgrom protested. "Once I get outta here, I'm going back."

"Me too," Kara said, though she sighed. Only an idiot would go back to something that they knew was bad for them. _But I never said I wasn't an idiot_. There was just an unspoken allure to thieving, and she didn't know if she'd ever be able to break the habit. She was hoping that at some point, her skills would come in handy. She could worry about the consequences when they happened…like now.

"No shit! You run with them, too?"

She nodded. "For a while now."

"This your first time inside?"

"In Skyrim, sure." When he frowned, she shrugged, feeling much more cavalier about it than she felt, still trembling in the cold and from the fear she was trying so hard to squash down. "I did three years in Cyrodiil."

"Imperial City?" When she nodded, he whistled. "That's a nasty place. Doesn't get much worse than that, 'less you go to High Rock."

"Hopefully I never will." She suddenly thought of what he had said about it being someone else's fault. "So how is it that you're not to blame for killing marks?"

He scoffed. "That's the official story. Yeah, sure, maybe I did knife a couple of people prematurely, but not nearly as many as they nailed me for." He looked away, his blue eyes vanishing for a moment. "I'm not saying nothin' bad about the guild in case this comes back to me, but I will say to watch your back."

A chill ran up Kara's spine. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not talking about nothin'. Just telling you to watch it. You never know who you can trust, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah," Kara said flatly, "I do." Slowly, she eased back from the wall, going to sit back down on the stone floor in the opposite corner of the cell. Her head was still aching, and she felt awful; more than that, she was annoyed at this person next to her. He had the gall to break the rules of the guild, and blame it on someone else? _He's lying_ was the only explanation she could come up with for his strange warning, and she wasn't in the mood to dwell on it, not when she was cold, hurt, and wondering how she could have let this happen yet again.

_I told Tamsin to wait. Where the hell did she go? Why isn't she here with me?_ It just didn't seem right, but then again, Kara was beginning to get used to that feeling with Tamsin. She suddenly scowled, thinking of the way Rune had urged her to be patient. _Oblivion take your patience. Look where it's landed me now._

Suddenly, she heard a loud creak echo throughout the jail, and two voices conversing pleasantly. One rose more loudly than the other, calling out, "All right, you shits, it's eating time. Backs to the wall and hands where we can see them, or you'll get nothing for the day."

Morning, Kara thought. It was early morning. She had slept all night, somehow. Or had she just been knocked unconscious? Either way, it was morning, and by now the guild had to know that something was wrong. Tamsin had to have gone back to them and told them what happened, and they would be planning a way to get her out. That was the way it worked when you were in a guild, right? Like a family.

Kara thought about that for a second before she snorted. _Family. Yeah, right._

Sighing wearily, she reached up for a broken shackle hanging from the wall to pull herself up. As she did, the stone that it was attached to shifted backwards with a scraping sound. Kara froze, halfway to standing, immediately letting go of the shackle. After a moment, the stone slid back into place, and her eyes widened. She reached for the shackle again, pulling on it again; once again, the stone moved. She looked up, swallowing hard, her mouth dry. There, carved into the wall, was a barely perceptible mark above the broken shackle. Kara instantly recognized it, thinking of the numerous times Delvin had shoved his book of shadowmarks in her face.

_Escape._

"Oy, prisoner. Back to the wall."

Kara jumped, startled, letting go of the shackle and spinning around, pressing her back to the wall. She held her hands up, even as the stone righted itself behind her. She covered up the sound with a number of hacking coughs that had the guards looking at her hesitantly. One unlocked the cell, edging in to set the plate of food on the floor. As soon as he had, he backed out of the cell as quickly as possible, and the other locked it again.

Kara stepped forward, peering down at the food in the weak light. The bread was stale, one crust of it covered in mold, and she wasn't even sure what lay beside it. "Hey," she said, looking up at them fiercely. "This food isn't fit for dogs!"

"That'll teach you not to steal in Skyrim," one of the guards said. The other laughed, and taking their torches, they proceeded to the upper level.

Furious, Kara kicked the plate away, cursing as the plate rebounded off the cell bars and hit her in the shin. The bread bounced before falling in a corner, hard as a rock.

Holding a hand to her aching head, Kara walked to the cell bars, leaning against them, listening. The guards were talking to a prisoner somewhere above her; after twenty or thirty minutes, their voices faded, and the door to the keep closed once more. Still, Kara waited, arms hanging loosely through the bars, her entire body sagging against them. When she was certain that no one was coming back, at least not for a while, she steadily moved backwards, dried flakes of rust clinging to the pads of her fingers.

She was reaching for the shackle when she heard a voice. "What are you doing over there?"

Kara didn't look over, just raised her hands and pulled. The stone section of the wall opened outward to reveal a corridor that sloped down, and though the sound was loud enough to carry, she had a feeling that nobody important was listening. "I'm going back to my guild," she said.

"Even after they left you here?"

"They didn't _leave_ me here. They just haven't arrived yet. I'm going to save them the trouble."

Morgrom chuckled. "You keep telling yourself that, girl."

Clenching her teeth, she wrapped her arms around herself to brace against the cold draft coming in, before plunging into the dark corridor. The passageway was all stone, and her feet tread over the grooves gingerly, her footsteps unsteady. She reached out one hand to trail along the wall, eyes wide in the dark. Something skittered across one foot, and she swallowed down the shriek that threatened to give her away. Taking a deep breath of the cold air, she tried to keep her mind clear, to focus on getting out. _Escape_, she said in her mind, repeating it like a prayer. _Escape._

Finally, the dark began to recede and she came upon a torch. She took it off the wall, holding it out in front of her, shying to one side of the corridor when she saw a skeever in the corner. It turned towards the sudden intrusion of light, eyes red and reflecting the fire, raising itself up on its hind legs. It hissed at her, and she thrust out with the torch, sweeping the fire through the air. The skeever hissed again, but backed away. She turned to the right, following the passageway, her back to the wall, eyes on the skeever until she was far enough away to run as quietly as she could, her bare feet slapping against the damp stone.

Every time she met a torch, she put it out, throwing it to the ground and letting it fizzle out in the pools of water that had collected on her path. When her own torch began to wear down, she let it, watching it flicker helplessly before going out, her eyes struggling once more to adjust. She was frightened, the feeling of it seeping through her, her heart pounding, her skin feeling too tight over her bones, but suddenly in the dark, she thought of her father, with whom she had never felt afraid because there was no reason to. _Just pretend he's here. Pretend he's here, standing right there next to you, and you can get out of this, like you did on all those other jobs_. _One thing at a time, remember? _

She could almost see him standing there, the way he had been the last time she had seen him: Tall and surprisingly slender, for a Nord, with a handsome, boyish face, his fair hair always falling into his eyes and his blue eyes sparkling with humor. There was a scar on his lip from where he'd been hooked while fishing with her Uncle Harald; she had always loved hearing him tell that story, always loved laughing at it. She pictured it all clearly in the darkness, almost able to see a spectral form of him standing there beside her, shining silver. She saw his mouth move, heard his voice say, _"Come on, my girl. Let's get ourselves out of this, shall we?"_

She took a step forward. It was dark and it was cold, but suddenly she didn't feel it so much, able to breathe easier in the oppressive blackness surrounding her, the cold a grim focus. She almost felt _cloaked_ by it, a winter's child making the dark her shield, using it as her best weapon. Resolutely, she took a step forward, and then another. _I'm going to get out of here._

The corridors twisted and turned, a veritable labyrinth of passageways, and she was worried for a moment that she might get lost, but she felt—strangely—that her father was almost guiding her, pointing the ways out to her so she could follow. It wasn't long before she found herself in a high stone room, light flickering all around. To her right, there was a wooden staircase. She tiptoed up it as quietly as she could, freezing in place near the top when she heard the murmur of voices nearby. Looking up, she could see an opening in the wall, a place where the stones had fallen through. If she wasn't mistaken, it was the guards' barracks.

Stealthily climbing the last few stairs, she found herself on the landing; it stretched on to her right. In the corner, just beneath the opening to the guards' chamber, there were several barrels filled with what she could only imagine were supplies for the jail; beside them on the ground grew a cluster of mushrooms, but they were darkened by something that looked very much like blood, old and dried. Gingerly stepping over them, Kara climbed up onto the barrels, raising her head to peek into the room through the opening.

Immediately, she was caught by what lay in front of her. Sitting there, right in front of her face, was a large chest. _Inventory_, she thought, looking down at it hungrily. _My things are inside._ With the exception of two, she noticed: Her bow and quiver of arrows rested beside it. She grinned, reaching out to touch them happily. _I missed you._

"…some of that mutton's gone bad," a voice said.

Kara ducked instinctively, pulling her hand back, though the chest already hid her from view. Slowly, she peeked back up over the edge of the wall, hands clasping the stone. She could just barely see a guard to the far left around the chest, reclining in a chair. He was talking to the other one, but she couldn't see him. She shied away from the light, sitting down on the barrels to try and think of something to do, some way to get them out of the room.

When she thought she might have an idea that would work, she stood back up, peering into the room. She reached for her bow and an arrow from her quiver, leaning into the room through the opening and nocking the arrow as quietly as she could. The guards' backs were to her, and she moved as fast as she could, heartbeat in her throat. Aiming to the right, where the door leading in was flung wide open, she fired—and immediately drew back into the stone room, clutching her bow to her chest as she shrank down against the barrels, listening.

The arrow had gone shooting off somewhere down the hallway, smacking against the walls as it went. The guard in the chair shushed the other one and stood up, listening. "…you hear that? It sounded like…" She didn't hear what else was said, only their footsteps as they hurried out of the barracks and through the door, down the corridor leading towards the prison. _They'll find the arrow soon, there's no time—_ Leaving her bow on the barrels, she pulled herself in through the opening, clambering over the chest. She ran to the door, catching a glimpse of the two guards in the corridor beyond, before she slammed the door shut behind them and twisted the key that had been in the lock. There was a shout from the hallway, but she was already scampering backwards, already rooting around for the chest key.

It was there on a table, and she snatched it up, forcing it into the chest's lock as the guards pounded on the door. "I swear, when we catch you, you're going to wish you'd never been born," one of them said savagely.

"Never heard that one before," Kara muttered, rolling her eyes, as she flung the chest open.

She scooped up her things, pressing the leather armor to her chest. The objects in her myriad of pockets were uncomfortable, poking and prodding, but there wasn't time to pull it all on. Slinging on her quiver, she crawled back out through the opening. With her bow strapped across her back, she ran down the landing, following it to a narrow alcove in the wall. Instead of a floor, there was a drop into a room below. Throwing her things down first, she lowered herself in and let go, the fall jarring her ankles and making her bite her lip to suppress a cry of pain.

She tore off her ragged clothes, yanking her leather on haphazardly, loosely tying and buckling where it was needed, before securing her quiver and bow. Noticing the coin purse on the ground beside her foot, she pocketed it, and looked around. Before her was a gate; no way out. To her left, however, was another alcove, and within it was a wooden ladder. She grabbed the ladder, looking up. There was a trapdoor. Finally, Kara smiled. _See? The guild hasn't let me down yet._ Still smiling, she began to climb.


	5. Frankly, My Dear

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The trapdoor had led to a storeroom in the keep, and she'd quickly exited, hoping none of the Jarl's household would catch sight of her. Her luck had held, and she'd managed a leg out of a window before she was back in Riften proper, resurfacing into the early morning with a grin.

Her breath spiraled away from her in frosty clouds, the cold air stinging her cheeks and numbing her fingers and toes, but she didn't even care. All she felt was exhilarated and free, spinning around in circles, hugging herself, laughing dizzily. She was free, free, _free_ and all that remained was to go back to the guild and see what had become of Tamsin. Even that didn't make her angry anymore; she just laughed again and shook her head. If only they'd had a system like this back in the Imperial City.

Quickly leaving the shadow of Mistveil Keep, she set off for the cemetery, heading for the secret entrance into the Cistern. She was so pleased with herself, still reflecting on her triumphant escape and planning what she would tell Rune and the others, that she didn't notice the guard standing beside the Shrine of Talos. It was only when he called out that she froze, turning on one heel.

"You there," he said, approaching in a clink of armor. "What are you doing skulking around out here?"

"Skulking?" Kara asked. She raised her voice, projecting her most offended tone. "_Skulking_? Excuse you, sir, but I am out here on important business."

"Oh? What business could be so important that it would send you sneaking around in a graveyard at dawn?"

Kara narrowed her eyes. "Well, it wouldn't be something I would tell you, now would it? It's between the Jarl and myself. Now, if you'll excuse me—"

The guard laughed. "The _Jarl_? Now that's one I haven't heard in a while."

"I am affronted! Do you know who I am?"

He looked her up and down. "Should I?"

"I am Kara Dragonsbane! I am an honored friend of the Jarl, and I will not be treated in this manner. I demand you cease heckling me at once."

"You _demand_? All right." He clamped a gloved hand around her arm. "Why don't you come with me to the keep and we'll see what the Jarl has to say about her _honored guest._"

Kara's lungs seemed to shrink in her chest. "Get your hands off me," she snarled, trying to pull away from him, but his grip only tightened. He reached for the dagger sheathed at one hip, and she froze.

Suddenly, a familiar voice floated to Kara from behind her. "And what do we have here?"

Kara looked over her shoulder at the woman striding towards them. Clad in an elegant fur-lined cloak as dark as her hair, Maven Black-Briar was both beautiful and powerful, the head of one of the wealthiest and most influential families in all of Skyrim, as well as the patron of the Thieves Guild. Kara had never been happier to see her, especially as Maven's eyes, chilly as the gray morning, fell on the guard with a look of disdain.

"Lady Black-Briar," the guard said, bowing his head in greeting.

"Good morning, guardsman. Now, why are you harassing my messenger?"

The guard looked confused. "My lady?"

If it was possible, Maven's voice turned the air around them even colder. "This girl is a messenger sent from me to Jarl Laila Law-Giver. I can only assume she was on her way down the lane to my manor with a reply from the Jarl herself, as I instructed her to do." She cocked an eyebrow at the guard. "Or should I have told her to walk down the waterfront to my front door, where any common thief could have robbed her of these very important documents she brings me?"

The guard slowly let go of Kara's arm. "No, my lady. You are wise to instruct your messengers in this way."

"Yes, I know. So if that's all—"

The guard nodded, glancing at Kara. "My apologies." Walking stiffly, he returned to his post beside the Shrine.

Maven smirked. "Someday, they'll learn."

"That was…" Kara just swallowed, looking over at the older woman. "Thank you."

"You're lucky I happened to be walking by, Dragonsbane. Or is it Quick-Draw?"

"Kara's just fine."

Maven went on as if she hadn't spoken. "Or even _Hrokrsdottir_?"

Kara tensed. She frowned slightly. "Was I stupid to think anything I tell Brynjolf or Mercer wouldn't make its way back to you?"

"Yes. But don't forget Vex and Delvin, they do their parts as well." Surprising Kara, Maven took her arm and the two of them began walking slowly down the lane behind the manors with their walled-off properties and austere windows staring down at them. When Kara looked confused, Maven only said, "We may as well keep up appearances to fool that imbecile a little longer, until the shift change in ten minutes."

"You know all the shift changes of the guard?"

Maven smiled demurely. "Surely you have better questions to ask."

"Uh, I guess. I don't think I want to, though."

"And why's that?"

"Because it feels dangerous to question you."

Maven chuckled darkly. "Well, you're a fast learner, if nothing else. Now, there's just the issue of how you'll repay me for this little service…"

"Repay you?"

"Oh, come now. This isn't your first stay in Riften; surely you know the way things work around here by now." Maven stopped, turning Kara to face her. "Nothing in this world comes for free, Little Crow. You should know this better than anyone."

Kara frown deepened, not only at the nickname, but also at what Maven was telling her. "What do you mean?"

"It's none of your concern at the moment. Just remember, if you plan on making this place your home, there are two things you should know: Everything comes full circle."

"And the other one?"

The smile that bloomed slowly on Maven's lips made Kara feel vaguely uncomfortable, and she shivered beneath that frosty gaze in spite of herself. "Jarl Laila may be sitting on the throne in the keep, but Riften is _my_ town." Releasing Kara, she stepped away from her. She looked like a ghost, all pale skin, cold gleaming eyes, and dark hair whispering around her face. "I'll find you when that debt needs repaying."

Without another word, Maven strolled through the iron gate beside them, closing it behind her. Kara watched as Maven disappeared back into her manor, before shaking her head. It had been a very strange night, and the day itself wasn't looking much better. She was glad she had escaped and glad that Maven had bailed her out of a potentially dangerous situation, but being indebted to the mysterious patron left a bad taste in Kara's mouth. Making a face, she tried to shake it off, walking back the way they had come.

Sure enough, the guard was gone. Tiptoeing into the mausoleum, Kara pressed the switch for the sarcophagus, descending into the heart of the guild, her home. It was still early enough in that transitory hour that many of the beds were empty, and to Kara's surprise, Mercer was not holding court from behind his desk. In fact, all of the Cistern save for two beds, was empty. She frowned, body tense as she walked slowly to the passageway that led to the Ragged Flagon.

Upon opening the door, she heard a number of voices. Satisfied that nothing had happened to compromise the guild's hideout, she halted just in the doorway, leaning against the stone wall there, listening, trying to make out the individual voices. They seemed to be arguing.

"…can't just mount an offensive; do we look like warriors to you?" Vex snapped, her voice overriding the others. "I say we leave her there, at least for a little while. It would teach her a lesson."

So, they were talking about her. She was almost glad, until she realized what Vex was suggesting. She frowned.

"A lesson?" _Rune_, Kara thought, pleased at him jumping to her defense. "She didn't do anything wrong, not this time."

"And how do you know?" Vex shot back. "You weren't there. The only person who was there is gone now."

Kara bit her lip. They had to be talking about Tamsin. What had happened to her? _Besides leaving me behind to eat dirt. _

"At any rate, even if she did mess it up somehow, it's been _hours_. Surely that's enough of a punishment for her?"

"Look, chances are, she's in lockup," Delvin joined in. "She won't have been brought before the Jarl, not yet, and even then maybe she'll go easy on her—after all, Kara did save the place from a dragon."

"That's no small feat," Tonilia said.

"Yeah, but what if they see the brand on her arm? There's no way she can hide it, not in the awful clothes they give prisoners to wear. The Jarl will throw her in prison for the rest of her life with a brand like that."

Delvin snorted, sounding nonchalant. "Well, if she's paid any attention to me at all, she'll be out in a jiff. Me and Cynric have done up all the prisons here with shadowmarks and escape routes, and _that_ was no small feat, lemme tell ya."

"Delvin's right," Mercer finally said, his stern voice commanding the rest of them to silence. "Whether through her fault or Tamsin's, Kara got caught, and that's breaking our number one rule. As such, she deserves her fate. If she escapes, she escapes. If not, well, there's nothing to be done about it."

Rune wasn't finished. "But Mercer—"

"No! This is not the Thieves Guild of old where we can erase bounties and bribe the guards to release our own. We don't have the coin or the position anymore to have that sort of power, and that's the end of the discussion." There was a pause. "Kara's fate is in the hands of the Divines now."

Kara thought about that, scowling in the half-light where no one could see her. She had called them her family just hours before, had defended them when she was so certain that they would be on their way to help her. Yeah, it was true that most of the time, they could be quite awful to her, and she to them. But the fact remained that they were a circle, a _group_, and if they didn't work together to make their circumstances work, they'd have no chance. They were the closest thing to a family she had on this side of Skyrim's border, and they were really willing to just leave her there? _Well, lucky for them, I'm smarter than I look. Sort of._

Grinning in spite of Mercer's proclamation, Kara straightened her armor and strolled out from the doorway and into the Flagon. "That sounds about right, Mercer," she drawled, unable to feel angry or hurt anymore, her body fueled by pure adrenaline and confidence at the knowledge that _finally_, she had done something right. "The Divines have always had a bit of a soft spot for me, you know?"

Kara wished she could save that moment in her mind for the rest of her life, because their faces were priceless. All of them were dumbstruck, knocked silent by her sudden appearance. After a split-second, however, the Flagon erupted with sound. Rune moved first, crossing the room to embrace her, picking her up in a hug and swinging her around. She laughed, even as the motion made her dizzy. He set her back down in time for almost everyone to approach, reaching to grab her, shake her happily, babbling all at once, asking how she had gotten out. For the first time in a long time, she felt like a real part of the guild, and whatever Molgrom—and Vex—had been saying faded away as she smiled up at all of them. How could she ever have doubted them?

"It was Delvin," she said, finding the Breton in the small crowd. "You and your shadowmarks. Remind me to never doubt you again."

Delvin beamed, exclaiming, "See? The system works!" Everyone laughed, except for the two people who hadn't come over to congratulate her: Mercer and Vex. She met Mercer's gaze across the room, but she couldn't identify the expression on his face as he watched her, arms folded over his chest.

Delvin ushered her into a chair and Thrynn handed her a drink. She took a gulp, glad to be back, as they surrounded her eagerly.

Niruin spoke next, leaning over the table. "So what happened, Kara? Tamsin never came back, and we got word from Maven that you'd been arrested."

_Damn woman knows everything._ Kara quickly recounted the story for them, explaining how the job had gone almost right—until it went all wrong. "Tamsin just disappeared," Kara finally said, shrugging. "I thought she had come back here. She always runs at the first sign of guards, so I imagine that was what spooked her."

Vipir the Fleet shook his head. "Nah, no one's seen her. We thought maybe she got caught with you."

"If only. She would have deserved it." Some of them nodded in agreement, and she was once again reassured. Maybe they weren't preparing to knock down the doors of the Riften dungeon for her, but she knew that none of them would have left her behind on a job the way the elf girl had. "Anyway," Kara said, waving her hand. "Good riddance, I say."

"Yes, good riddance," Vex chimed in, finally striding over. "We never needed one more mouth to feed to begin with, just like Mercer said. Now, where's the ring?"

Kara froze, her tankard halfway to her mouth. "Ring?"

"Yes, the ring. The one you and Tamsin were sent to steal in the first place. Remember?"

"Ah, yes. That ring. Yeah, of—of course."

Vex stared at her for a moment. Everyone had gone quiet, watching the showdown. "You don't have it, do you?"

Kara slowly set her tankard down, bracing herself as she eased out, "Tamsin _may_ or may not have it."

Vex swore so loudly and completely that Kara wasn't even sure it was in the common tongue anymore. She shrunk down in her seat, waiting for the yelling to be over, as the rest of the guild bit their lips and clenched their fists, trying so hard not to laugh. Kara couldn't blame them, either. How could she do something so right for one of the first times, and still find a way to mess it up? She was annoyed at Tamsin all over again, for landing her in this position in the first place, and for making Kara want to help her when it was clear that she had issues of her own.

Suddenly, Kara remembered what Tamsin had been saying earlier. She had been angry and hadn't wanted to listen, but Tamsin had needed to talk. What about? What if it had been something important? _And I ignored her._ That feeling returned to Kara, hanging over her shoulders, and she tried not to slouch defensively. Tamsin had made a mistake more than once, but what if there was a reason behind it all? What if her running off was Kara's fault?

_No_, she thought. _I can't think that. But…_

"All right, Vex," Delvin said, shaking his head, amused. "I think Kara's had her fill."

"I don't need _you_ to tell me what to do, old man," Vex snarled, rounding on him. "We all know how you like to spend your time—"

"All right, all right, that's enough," Mercer snapped, stepping in between them. "You're senior members of the guild, act like it. Now, we're all glad that Kara is back, but there's work to be done. Everyone get to it, or get to sleep."

Still murmuring their congratulations, the rest of the guild (or, at least, most of them) said their farewells to Kara and filed back down the hall, into the Cistern. Mercer stalked away, before suddenly turning back to face Kara. "And that loss is going to come out of your pocket, _Dragonborn_," he sneered, before disappearing. Kara didn't think it was possible, but she managed to sink down lower in her chair, until her face was barely visible over the table.

Glaring once in her direction, Vex kicked a chair over, before leaning against several crates stacked across from the bar, a scowl darkening her features. Delvin just shrugged, pulling up a chair beside Kara and popping the cork off a bottle of Black-Briar mead, taking a nonchalant swig. Rune was the only one who lingered.

Clear that her brief moment of glory was over, Kara finished the last of her ale and stood. Nodding at Delvin, she met Rune halfway, the two of them walking close to each other as they passed through the doorway into the hall. Now that all the excitement had faded—and she had screwed up yet again, she was exhausted and done for the day, her head throbbing steadily. She kept telling herself she would be asleep soon, that all she needed to do was make it a few more feet, a few more steps, but her vision swam and she stumbled.

Rune caught her elbow, helping her back up to standing as he peered at her with concern. "Kara, are you all right?"

"Yeah. I just had a long night, and it doesn't help that I got hit in the head twice—"

Rune stopped her just before the door to the Cistern, turning her to face him. "You got hit? When?"

Kara mentioned the statue of Dibella that Svana had hit her with, followed by the guard's sword. When she was finished, Rune looked even more distressed, immediately spinning her around to peer at the back of her head. Kara could feel his breath on her neck and she fiercely resisted the shiver that was threatening to slide down her spine; her knees weak, Kara was sure, because of the fatigue. His hands were gentle when he parted the curls at the back of her head, and she heard his sharp intake of breath as he got to the blood-crusted hair there.

"Kara, you need a healer." She tried to protest, but Rune would hear none of it. "I'm serious. Come on, I'll take you to the temple."

Kara laughed out loud, resisting. "No, not going to happen. Temples and I do _not_ mix—"

"It won't take but a moment, if you'd quit giving me grief. You can sleep when we get back."

Kara half-heartedly fought the entire way out through the graveyard. On one hand, she was being honest. She and temples had always been a match destined for mishaps. She was not one for religion, regardless of who it belonged to. She had grown up in Bruma, the northernmost city in Cyrodiil, living with her Uncle Harald and Aunt Dagny, Eiri's parents, after her mother died. Though they were proud Nords, they had lived in Cyrodiil for a long time, and had come to accept the Aldmeri-fused pantheon that worshipped the Divines. Kara had grown up recognizing this structure of beliefs as well, but the stories of Shor and Kyne that her father had told her as a child had always stayed with her. As such, she never chose one or the other to worship, meshing the gods and stories that had shaped her youth. When it all came down to it, Kara preferred to make her own destiny—unfortunately, it didn't seem the gods had the same idea, what with her possibly being Dragonborn and their chosen champion.

When it came to the Great Chapel of Talos, however, Kara knew precisely where she stood. Her uncle was a stonemason who had often worked on the Great Chapel that stood in the center of Bruma. As such, Kara had spent many an event sitting in the temple, whether it was there with her family to pray and attend, or to celebrate holidays and weddings. On more than one occasion, Kara had been in trouble with the primate there, even going so far as to be barred from the inside several times as punishment. The last time she had gotten in trouble had been by far the worst, as due to unforeseen circumstances, Kara had ended up caught with her pants down—literally—in the chapel's Undercroft. The primate had been so angry that for once, he had no words. She hadn't been welcome back since.

On the other hand, however, Kara was glad that Rune was so intent on helping her. Going to the temple probably was the best idea, even if she didn't like it, and she was glad—if not a little grudgingly—about the push. It was nice that he cared, and she was happy to have him around, especially in Brynjolf's long absence.

The temple had just opened to the public when they arrived. Inside, it was dim and smoky, the braziers having just been lit. It was quiet and serene, the high ceilings creaking, as a dark-haired priestess in plain russet robes lit the candles at the base of the statue of Mara on the altar across the room, down the rug-lined aisle between the rows of pews. The sweet smell of incense filled the air, and Kara could hear the priestess humming calmly as she did her duties.

"Excuse me," Rune said politely.

The woman turned, blowing out the stick she had been using to light the candles. She was a Dunmer, with liquid black eyes and severe brows. "Good morning! My name is Dinya Balu. How can I be of service to you?"

"My friend here is hurt. How much for a healing?"

"We do not charge, but we do accept donations, if you so choose." Rune nodded as Dinya approached, looking at Kara curiously. "Where is your injury?"

Before she could even say anything, Rune spun her around and held up her hair, pointing it out to Dinya.

"I see," Dinya said. "Let me gather some supplies, and then we'll begin."

Kara heard her footsteps diminish, before she yanked away from Rune, shaking her hair out. "Is this _really_ necessary?"

"Kara, you have no idea what it looks like. Just let her heal you, and we'll be done with it."

"Rune—"

"Please. For me."

Kara looked over her shoulder at him, at his earnest dark eyes and the concern for her that was written all over his face. Finally, she nodded. "All right. For you, I suppose I can manage it."

Rune smiled. "I'm so glad you can make concessions for me."

"You should be, since you're probably the only person who could get away with it."

"Ooh, lucky me."

Dinya returned then with a bowl of water and a clean rag that she used to wipe the dried blood from Kara's head and neck. Rusty flakes filled the bowl of water, turning to red swirls as she repeatedly dipped the rag inside. The water felt good, cool and calming against the nape of Kara's neck, and she let her eyes close as Dinya worked. It was a struggle to keep herself awake, especially since the last time she had slept had been on the floor of a cold cell. Every inch of her was sore, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

The rag disappeared from her neck, and the wound ached anew. Kara kept her head down, as she heard a humming sound and light pulsed behind her closed eyelids. She had been on the receiving end of a healing before, thanks to her mageling cousin Eiri, but she wasn't sure how one from a stranger would feel. She adjusted her grip on Rune's hand—only then just realizing that somewhere in her half-torpor, she had reached for him. He tightened his fingers around hers comfortingly, as Dinya laid her hands against the back of Kara's head. A tingling started there, before making its way slowly down, the ache increasing for a moment before receding. Her eyes watered and she bit her lip, but just as suddenly, it was over, and her head felt cold and numb, like she had just dunked it in a barrel of water.

When she opened her eyes, Rune was slipping the priestess a handful of septims, smiling good-naturedly. "Thank you so much," he said. "You did a wonderful job."

Dinya thanked him heartily, her voice following them out of the temple with a blessing of Mara that Kara shrugged off as easily as it took her to open the door. She left her hood down, hiding her Thieves Guild armor with the cloak she had wrapped around herself the moment she left the dungeon. They were still holding hands when they tramped down the stairs from the temple, and Kara couldn't help but wonder what exactly was going on.

Luckily, Rune solved her preoccupation for her. He casually broke the contact, pulling his hand from hers to move aside several strands of hair that had scattered over his face. "So, remember how we were going to spend the day out and about?"

Kara nodded.

"You up for it now, or are you too tired?"

She didn't _want_ to rise to the challenge, but she heard it in his voice all the same. Not only that, but the healing had revitalized her, dispersing some of the threads of fatigue that enshrouded her. It might have been just the boost she needed to get through the day, even if it would mean sleeping that night, something she hadn't done in months. She didn't even know if she would be working that night thanks to the Tamsin debacle, and besides, didn't she deserve a night off? It was time to cut loose, whatever that meant, regardless of what everyone else thought. She had just escaped from prison; she deserved to celebrate.

Winning the argument with herself, she grinned at Rune. "Who could ever be too tired?"


	6. I Don't Give A Damn

They stopped off at the Bee and Barb so Kara could change into plainclothes, but before they could leave, Keerava stopped them. "Sit down, get a meal in you," she said encouragingly, steering them towards a table. Rune looked surprised and pleased at the proprietor's gumption, but Kara was grinding her teeth, eyeing the Argonian with a fierce glare. As she brought the two of them bread and some grilled fish, she caught Kara's eye and smiled.

"No suitors, hm?" she murmured, wiping the table before setting their plates down.

"I hate you," Kara replied. Keerava's smile just widened, and she spun away, back to her place behind the bar.

"You two are friends, I presume?" Rune asked, eyes flicking towards Keerava.

Kara shrugged. "Something like that. She gave me a place to stay when I needed it, and I used my power and influence to hook her up with some amethysts, so I suppose that _would_ make us friends."

Rune grinned wryly. "Power and influence, huh?"

"Hey, I'm a Thane of Whiterun. That means something…sort of."

"Not here it doesn't."

The two of them shared their meal in companionable chatter, before Kara threw down a handful of septims and said goodbye to Keerava. The food had renewed her vigor, and as she pulled her cloak around her in the morning chill, she felt better, more at ease. It was like with Tamsin gone, she could breathe again, even if there was that shred of doubt, and that lingering wonder: _Where had she gone?_ If she truly was gone, maybe the answer didn't matter, but Kara couldn't help but think of it as she and Rune joined the many others in the market to see what wares were being offered that day.

There were some freelance traders on the outskirts of the square, travelers who had just arrived for the week, or however long they would be staying. Rune and Kara worked their way through them, peering into pots and boxes to look at jewels and furs; holding up shiny red apples and freshly made bread, still warm from the fire; running their fingers over glimmering plates and jewels. At one blanket laid out on the cold stones, a woman was selling fine cloths and woven clothes; Rune picked out a purple scarf and held it up, making Kara try it on, even when she refused. It was warm and comfortable, more so than the one Brynjolf had given her, and though she liked it, she eventually said no and they moved on.

The permanent stall-keepers were in the center of the square, surrounding the broken well, and Kara and Rune joined the throngs mired around them. The sun had climbed higher, drawing more and more people from their homes, and it was a struggle to walk around and peer at some of the armor Grelka had fashioned, or some of Madesi's fine jewelry. Kara was thinking it was probably best that they didn't get too close to Madesi—the urge to steal, and all—when suddenly someone tapped her on the arm.

She spun around, free hand going for the dagger at her back and eyes darting towards Rune. He was still behind her, looking longingly at something over his shoulder. Trying to relax, she glanced back at whoever had tapped her.

He was tall and thin, as though he hadn't seen a proper meal in ages. His hair, though mostly covered with a black hood, was visibly dark and messy, seeming unwashed to Kara's eyes. The pale skin of his face was smudged with dirt and wind burned, blotchy patches of red darkening it. When he smiled at Kara, his teeth were mossy and black with rot.

"Hello, lassie," he said in a high, whining voice. The warp of Brynjolf's usual nickname for her alone made her edge back away from the man in revulsion. "Care to buy a potion or two? Neat price, just for you."

Kara shook her head. "No, thank you."

"Are you sure? Dangerous times to be goin' without potions, alone in the wild." His blue eyes, though rheumy and bloodshot, seemed familiar.

"I'm hardly ever _in_ the wild, so no, thanks. I don't need any potions."

"Oh, not out in the wild, you say? Well, where would you be, then? Flying 'round in the sky with dragons?" He leaned in closer, and she suddenly wanted to be as far from him as possible. "Or could it be you're skulkin' around underground, like a rat?"

"What—" Kara started to say, but he grabbed her arm, fingers holding on tight. For a man of his stature and obvious bad health, he was surprisingly strong. She reached back for her dagger as covertly as she pulled, fingers closing around the grip.

"Oh, come now, dearie. There's nothing wrong with—"

"Excuse me," Rune said from beside her, his voice cold, sounding every bit like the typical proud Imperial. "I'm quite sure she said she wasn't interested."

The man looked over at Rune, eyes roving over him, before he nodded and let go of Kara. "Of course, of course, we meant no offense…" He watched them closely as Rune grabbed Kara's hand and pulled her away.

"What in the name of the Divines was that?" he asked when they were out of the crowd, edging over towards Balimund's forge and shop.

"I—I have no idea. He just started heckling me and then he grabbed me." Kara pulled her hand from Rune's and turned back, looking behind them to try and find the man, but he seemed to have vanished in the crowd, just like them. She felt certain that she didn't know him, but some part of her felt strange, almost like… "He seemed familiar."

"Familiar?"

"Yes. Almost like I've seen him before."

"Have you?"

"I don't know. I feel like I would have remembered."

"Well, I know _I've_ never seen him before, so he must be one of the wayfarers selling their goods on the go. There'll be more and more of them in the coming days, with Heart's Day around the corner."

Kara made a face, swinging back around to look at him. "_Heart's Day_?"

"Yeah, the holiday." He shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "Surely you know it?"

"Well, of course I know it. I just—I don't know, I didn't think Skyrim had time for that sort of thing."

Rune snorted. "Holidays mean drinking, and Skyrim _always_ has time for that."

"That I can believe."

Joking and playfully pushing each other, the strange man in the marketplace forgotten, the two of them wandered back over towards the Bee and Barb, outside the front door, where a handful of other people were loitering, including Sapphire. She barely nodded at them, and Rune did the same back to her. Kara, however, met the glare that she had learned was reserved especially for her, narrowing her own eyes at the icy Nord woman. Kara was just in the process of flashing their associate a rude hand gesture, when Rune grabbed her arm.

"Kara."

"Okay, _okay_, I get it. Sapphire and I—"

He went on as if she hadn't spoken. "Is that Tamsin over there?"

Kara turned so quickly that her neck spasmed. She looked at Rune to see where he was talking about, before following his gaze. Across the canal, just outside of Haelga's Bunkhouse, was someone who looked remarkably like Tamsin. She was standing close to a Dunmer, their heads bent together like they were talking intimately…or making some kind of deal.

"I…I think so. What is she doing?"

"Let's find out," Rune said, and Kara nodded, the two of them practically running across the bridge.

At the sound of their footsteps, Tamsin and the Dunmer woman looked up. The Dunmer woman immediately turned and hurried away, while Tamsin kicked off the wall of the bunkhouse and turned to face them. Her eyes were unreadable, as Kara had grown used to, but the rest of her face seemed tired and sad. Maybe Kara had wrongly judged her, after all.

"Tam!" Rune exclaimed. He pulled Tamsin into a quick hug that surprised Kara and Tamsin both, as her eyes widened over his shoulder. She looked grateful, though, when he released her, stepping back to make sure she was okay. "Are you all right? What happened last night?"

She nodded. "I'm fine, yeah. I, uh… I got spooked by the guards," she said, her voice rough and scratchy. She avoided Kara's eyes, looking down at the ground as she scuffed the cobblestone street with her boot. "It was stupid of me and I'm really sorry."

"Where did you go?" Rune asked.

"Everywhere, really. I didn't want to stay in one spot, so I would hide for a while in one place and then move somewhere else after an hour or so. I didn't really sleep at all, either."

"Well, I'm glad you're safe. Everyone was really worried."

Tamsin's eyes shone. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course! Right, Kara?" Rune glanced at her, sending her a meaningful look.

"Yeah, completely," Kara answered, her voice flat. "So what was that just now?"

Tamsin frowned. "What was what?"

"You and the Dunmer. Who was she?"

"Oh, Niluva? She helped me out. Gave me a place to stay for a little while. I was just thanking her."

"Uh-huh. You still have that ring for Vex, by any chance?"

"Oh, um…" Tamsin rifled through her many pockets, the two of them watching, before she finally shook her head, coming up empty handed. "No, I'm sorry. It must have fallen out when I was running."

"Figures," Kara muttered, before shaking her head. "I just don't get it. You said you were a good thief. You said you ran with the Silver Crescents for _years_."

"I did, it's just that… Things are so much different here!"

"How different can they be? Stealing is stealing, wherever you go."

"I know, I'm just trying to get back on my feet. After everything…" Tamsin shook my head. "I'm really trying, Kara, I am. And if you'll let me, I can prove to you that I'm going to do better. I'm going to _be_ better. You just have to give me a second chance."

Kara could practically _feel_ Rune's pleading gaze on her, and she swallowed a sigh. She wasn't entirely sure she believed it, because as much as everyone else seemed to, and as much as she wanted to, she just didn't trust Tamsin. Still, what better way was there to keep an eye on her than to keep her around? At least then, she might figure out what the elf was up to. That is, if she didn't flush her career with the guild out to the canal waters first.

"All right," Kara said, nodding. "I guess we can tell Mercer that you got jumped by a guard and knocked out too or something. Anything to get him to believe that you didn't just run away because you're a coward."

Tamsin's entire face lit up, and she threw herself at Kara, hugging her tightly. "Thank you, Kara, thank you so much!"

Kara twisted and writhed until she was out from underneath the elf, holding her hands up in protection in case she decided to do it again. "That's enough," she said firmly, nodding at Tamsin. "Just make sure that this time, you're _serious_. Okay?"

Tamsin nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Kara, of course. I will be better this time."

"All right. Let's go see if we can steal a replacement ring for Vex."

The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon out and about, and for once, it was enough. She caught Rune smiling at her over Tamsin's head at one point as they dallied in the marketplace, and she didn't look away, smiling back just as brightly.

When they returned to the guild later that evening, Mercer was waiting for them. Rune had a job with Delvin again, so he immediately rushed off, leaving Kara to explain the situation. She lied as best as she could under that scrutinizing gaze, but she had a feeling Mercer still didn't believe her. Regardless, he accepted Tamsin back, and she promptly disappeared into the Cistern to sleep. Kara was just beginning to think she had the right idea when Tonilia stopped her.

"Hey. That friend of yours is back."

Kara was so tired, she momentarily had no idea what Tonilia was talking about. "What?"

"Your friend. The dark elf with the attitude."

Kara straightened immediately, snapped out of a yawn. "Oh! Right. Has she been waiting long?"

Tonilia shook her head. "She's over in the corner, having a drink." Kara turned away, but Tonilia grabbed her arm. "Make it quick, will you? She's making Vekel nervous."

Kara glanced at the grimy barkeep, lip curling in spite of herself at his constant leer. It was hard to believe _anything_ made him nervous, especially with Dirge, the large, blond, and not very bright Nord keeping lookout, but Kara decided she would humor Tonilia this once and attend to the Dunmer as quickly as possible. After all, Kara had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

The woman was indeed seated in the corner of the dock at one of the tables, a dark hood up to hide her face. One hand was wrapped around a tankard of mead, the other resting on the hilt of a green dagger at her side.

Kara slid into the chair opposite the Dunmer, smiling. "Well, of all the ratholes in all the world."

Red eyes glowed at Kara from beneath the hood. "Here, they're skeevers."

"Trust me, I know. Disgusting little things." Kara reached for the nearest plate, inspecting its wares. She picked up a hunk of bread and slightly stale cheese, biting off a corner of each. "So? How are you, Velore?"

The Dunmer pushed back her hood, exposing the dark red hair she kept tied back from her face in a half tail. There was a streak of white in it, and Kara wondered once again how she had gotten it. Her skin was a deep, smooth blue, and when she smiled, it was sharp, without any real heat or bite. It was just…there, just something to ease Kara during their meetings together, as she had learned early on after meeting the woman.

"I'm well," Velore said, leaning back in her chair. "Better than the last time we spoke, to be sure."

"That's good. So am I."

"Things are improving for you here?" When Velore looked around, she didn't seem entirely impressed, but as she had once spent a majority of her life in similar surroundings, Kara didn't think it was any particular type of judgment on her part, merely observation.

"Yeah, I think they might be looking up. For now, anyway. Who knows when the tide may turn on me again?"

"Indeed."

"How's Windhelm?"

Velore showed her teeth in a silent snarl. "Repulsive. Luckily for me, I haven't been spending much time there. I was working on the task you needed assistance with."

Kara sat up much straighter in her chair at that news, practically quivering with excitement. "Really?"

Velore nodded, reaching into a pouch on her belt. She pulled out a piece of parchment, unfolding it and smoothing it with long-fingered hands. On her left index finger, she wore an expertly crafted silver ring, a golden star sitting atop a silver crescent moon, the pinnacle of the ring's design. Kara couldn't stop looking at it when it caught the light of the candle on their table.

"You tasked me with finding an ancient Nordic artifact," Velore said, hands flat against the parchment. "I will tell you now that I was unsuccessful." Kara deflated almost instantly, but Velore went on. "I can, however, tell you that what you seek is far North." She drew out a piece of charcoal and circled an area—a _large_ area—that was northeast of their location. "That is all I have found out with my resources now limited."

"That…is so very specific, thank you," Kara muttered, casting her eyes down. She took the map from Velore, folding it carefully so as not to smudge the charcoal. "Well. Thanks for trying, anyway."

"I am sorry that I could not be of more help to you. I understand the trials you must face."

Kara glanced up at her. "Oh, yeah? How?"

Velore smiled again, and a shiver raced down Kara's back. She held up her hand, looking at the ring she wore with a bemused sort of expression on her face. "Trust me, Kara," was all she would say. "I understand far more than you know."

When Velore had gone, slipping through the shadows of the Ratway like she belonged there, Kara slumped against the table, laying her head down. She was exhausted in more ways than one. Not only had her most useful source not paid off, leaving her with nothing yet again, but she'd spent all day out on the town, and she was absolutely finished. There was no way they were getting another word or septim out of her, not even for a sweetroll. Laying her head on her arms, she promised herself just five minutes before she would leave to go to the Bee and Barb and obsessively stare at the north half of her map, at the black circle left behind by Velore. _Just five minutes…_

Five minutes turned into an hour, and when she woke up, the Flagon was empty. Kara stretched, ruffling her curls with one hand as she yawned. When she looked over her shoulder, the Flagon was _really_ empty; even Vekel and Dirge were gone. She frowned. Where had everyone gone? And why hadn't they woken her? She stood up, walking to the hidden corridor leading to the Cistern. She opened the door, but—

She was not in the Cistern. It was daylight, bright sunlight washing down over the scene before her. She walked inside, the door shutting quietly behind her as she tread over cobblestones. On either side of her were lush, verdant bushes and trees, colorful flowers springing up from dark soil. Birds flew overhead, and she watched them, the sky blue and clear. Before her, there was a path. She followed it several feet, before stopping, looking left and right. The path encircled the center of the place she was in, wrapped around a centerpiece of a majestic tree, its branches extending high, over the circle of white marble columns surrounding it.

It was the Arboretum of the Imperial City. _So how did I…?_

She turned around to go back to the door that would take her to Skyrim, only to find two people in her way. They were holding hands. One was an Imperial man with haughty, hooded dark eyes and sharp cheekbones. He gazed at her coldly from beneath his dark hair. The person beside him was a Breton woman with long, black hair that spilled down her back elegantly. Her eyes were a crystalline blue, her lips full and pink.

Kara felt rage just looking at them. Septimus and Dibella. They were the ones who had betrayed her father's gang of thieves, the Crow's Nest. They were the ones who had gone free, while she watched Iphigenia and Mercutio _die_, right before her eyes. She had only been sixteen. She reached for her bow, but she remembered she didn't have it. _Dagger it is, then._ Taking the blade from the small of her back, she rushed them both, grabbing Septimus by the shoulder and thrusting her blade into his belly, hard. He hardly made a sound. Dibella didn't move at all.

Curious, Kara looked up. Her eyes widened with horror when she saw that it was no longer Septimus that she was stabbing, but instead her father, Hrokr. "What?" she gasped. "No, no, I didn't mean—"

His blue eyes were wide, his mouth open and gasping, blood staining his teeth. He grabbed her wrist, fingers tightening around it, noiselessly begging her to pull the knife out. She just shook her head over and over, before looking to Dibella for help. Only it wasn't Dibella anymore, either. The dark hair was the same, but the face… It was the same face that Kara had inherited, the same sharp angles, the same narrow grey eyes. "Mother," she whispered.

At the sound, her mother turned toward her. Kara screamed. Her skin was a milky white, her lips blue, and when she reached for Kara, it was with a hand missing fingernails. Kara screamed again, and the Arboretum erupted in fire, a dark shadow swooping over her. She left her parents, running blindly through the flames, when the entire world beneath her feet seemed to _explode_ like a dandelion with its seeds blown off, the ground crumbling, changing into a cloud of blue flowers. Kara reached for a branch hanging off a nearby bush, but it dissolved, too, and suddenly she was falling, falling—

"Will you _please_ shut up?" a voice said, tearing at the fragments of the dream. "Some of us have better things to do than listen to you."

Kara sat straight up with a cry. She looked around, panicked and wild, before it set in: She was still in the Flagon. Nothing had happened. It was all a dream. She looked around, realizing that she wasn't alone. Looming over her was Sapphire, her arms folded angrily over her chest. Behind her were Vekel, still stationed at the bar; Tonilia sitting at one of the barstools; and Delvin, peering over the rim of his tankard at Kara with his eyebrows raised.

"I… Sorry." Kara hid her shaking hands by clenching them into fists. "I didn't realize."

"Do you realize _anything_?" Sapphire asked, bending down to get right in Kara's face. "Gods, what are you even still doing here? Don't you get it? Nobody wants you here!"

Delvin set his tankard down. "Sapphire!"

Sapphire glanced over her shoulder. "All she does is screw things up for us, Delvin. Who cares if she pulled off some great jobs in the beginning? What's she doing now that's so great?" She looked back down at Kara, lip curled in disgust. "Well? What' s so great about you?"

She was exhausted and adrenalized and if she was being honest, _frightened,_ and something about Sapphire just made her snap. "What's great about me?" Kara shot to her feet, knocking her chair over in the process. She whipped out her dagger so fast that Sapphire hardly had time to blink. "Come find out, bitch."

Sapphire's hand flew to her own hip and the sheath at her belt, but Delvin was up and intervening before she could draw. He put his hands out between them, pushing them away from each other. "All right, all right, that's more than enough, ladies. Sapphire, you best get yourself to sleep. Kara, maybe you should do the same. Just…give it a few minutes."

Sapphire and Kara stared at each other for a moment, Kara wanting so badly to Shout the woman into Oblivion. Instead, she slowly lowered her dagger, sliding it into the sheath at her back. Sapphire turned on one heel and stomped away. Only when she heard the door into the Cistern slam did Kara relax, shoulders slumping.

"I hate that woman," she said quietly.

Delvin chuckled from beside her. "Nah, I don't think you do. I think you're both just stubborn. If you'd open your eyes, you might see that the two of you have quite a lot in common."

Kara recoiled. "_Us?_ You're right out of your tree."

"Whatever you say, curls. But you can't steal what you can't see, you get me?"

"No, Delvin. I don't get you, at all. What the hell are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe you don't know the whole story. She's had a rough life, lass."

Kara shook her head, still shaking it as she began walking away. "I've had a hard life too, Delvin. We've all had a rough life. That's why we're down here. It's no excuse." She turned back at the hallway to the cistern. "Oh, and by the way?"

"Eh?"

"Don't call me lass."

* * *

**I couldn't resist that _Morrowind_ reference :D Anyway, I'm sorry for how long this took (I've been up to my eyeballs in school) but I hope you enjoy :)**


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